The Last Pirate
by Stratoc
Summary: The Rebellion has fallen. Mila flees the burning bloc of Angkor with her children and takes refuge on Babylonia. She waits for news about the Resistance. But news never comes. Now Mila has to go searching for answers if she ever hopes to see Marcus again.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** _I'm back with more Skyland stuff! Decided that I felt like writing some more timeline gap-fillers because, apparently, that's all I end up writing. So this is going to be a shorter story that sort of resumes how the rebellion ended and basically, how Mila started a new life on Babylonia. And if you're reading this... don't hesitate to leave a review! :D_

_Also, this story sort of follows after my other Skyland story; The Lost Prophecy. But it also stands alone. So yep. :P_

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Fire. There had been fire everywhere. Explosions shaking the ground, threatening to break the large block apart. Buildings had been blown to smithereens in the blink of an eye. And Mila ran; skidding in the sludge of ashes and dark red ooze as she sprinted down the road. Rounding the corners and jumping over faceless dead bodies, cloak billowing noisily behind her. She didn't glance at them; or at least tried not to. They'd been disfigured anyway, no way of telling who the deceased was.

It was a blur really, the Sphere attack. No one had seen it coming it seemed, and the rebels had been left completely unprepared. That, and the fact that the Sphere had attacked in the obscure hours of early morning, when people were still asleep.

Now, as she stood in a field of swishing golden, many hours flight away from the smoldering rebel base, Mila considered that she actually couldn't remember much of the attack. She still couldn't understand –couldn't believe- that it had happened. All those bodies couldn't have been those of her friends. She liked to imagine blindly that most pirates had escaped and had gotten out alive, just like she had escaped with her two small children.

Marcus had been out on a major mission to take the Block of Azul at the time with a rebel fleet, so Mila knew that he was probably back out there now, perhaps trying to round up the remaining rebels.

Mila felt a slight twinge of sorrow shake her out of her daze; her home was destroyed now. The first real home she and Marcus had established was gone. Ever since she'd joined the resistance, she and Marcus had traveled through Skyland, never staying in one place longer than a few months. Angkor, being the principal base of the rebellion, had been special. It'd been supposed to last. The Sphere should have fallen… What had gone wrong?

When Mila closed her eyes, even for a quick blink, she'd see forgotten memories flash, as if a film had been burned on the inside of her eyelids. Vivid images of bloodshed. Sometimes it was the ghastly silhouettes of brigadiers coming out of the shadows, reaching out. Other times, she'd glimpse those blood-stained streets, glistening sickeningly underneath the burst of nearby explosions.

The attack had taken place several hours ago she knew, but it felt like days. Some part of her had wanted to stay behind and fight the invasion but she'd had no choice but to leave. She couldn't have stopped to combat alongside the others, not really. She had her small children to look after now.

The young mother still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that they'd actually managed to escape unscathed. They were relatively safe now, on Babylonia. They had lost everything, but here they were.

Her five year old son stood beside her now, holding the side of her shirt and rubbing his eye sleepily. Mahad looked over the sunny landscape for a while before looking up at his mother quizzically, as if wondering why they were here. His baby sister, Lena, was sleeping in Mila's arms, soundless.

Mila was at least relieved to know that Mahad had probably not noticed the carnage back on the rebel block of Angkor. He was too young to understand. In fact, when the first explosions had brightened the thick darkness, she had caught him gaping through the windows, observing the "amazing fireworks."

Mila had pulled him away from the window just in time because milliseconds later the glass had shattered, sending jagged points flying through the room, ripping up the paint on the walls.

"Where are we?" Mahad asked, yawning. "Can we go home now-"

Mila bent forward to look at him, reaching out absent-mindedly to push the black hair out of his eyes. He was tired; they'd been running for their lives for a long while without pausing to catch their breaths.

Mila looked at the abandoned brick house sitting in the overgrown field up ahead. "No honey." She sighed, not much knowing what to say next.

"But… why?"

"Because, we're going to stay here for a little while."

Mahad frowned confusedly, blue eyes glinting. "But... Where's Dad?"

Mila's throat tightened. She didn't know the answer to that question either. "He'll be here soon, don't worry." She finally said, laying a quick kiss on her son's forehead as the boy yawned again. "Come, were almost there now." She pointed to the house in the sunlit field up ahead. "That's where we're going."

"But _I'm tired_..." He whined, pulling away from her arms and sitting down in the grass, lower lip wobbling. Mila cringed. This was no time for a tantrum. And yet, she wouldn't blame him for it; she just didn't think her pounding headache could handle it.

"It's going to be alright," Mila said softly, cradling Lena securely in the crook of her right arm. She picked up Mahad and sat him on her free hip. She blew the hair out of her face and started down the hill, towards the house.

It was like a dream, this beautiful, summery landscape. It was so silent that she could hear a distant ringing in her ears, as if her ear drums had gotten used to explosions and harsh noises by now. The twittering of distant birds seemed unreal. The swishing grass too soothing.

After a few minutes of trudging across the uneven grass, Mila stopped in the overgrown front yard of the house. The front door was closed, but the wood was chipping and peeling away. The walls had lost bricks in a few places and the roof was missing most of its shingles; those that were left were curled and blackened like scorched scraps of paper. The windows, thankfully, were intact; although one was clearly one the verge of cracking apart.

The rebel knew from memory that there was a large water cistern waiting in the back yard. The pipelines connecting to the cistern ran all the way to the front yard where a rusty pump waited over a sandy metallic basin. She'd have to check if the cistern had collected rain water later on.

As if in a dream, Mila put Mahad on the ground and reached for the door knob; after a moment of struggling, and an ominous cracking noise, the door swung open into the musty emptiness.

"Hello?" the young mother called automatically, knowing that there would be no reply.

She entered slowly, Mahad following suit. The inside of the house was a mess. What remained of the furniture was scattered all over the place. Cobwebs coated the ceiling and a slight, rotting odor hung in the air.

It was just as she remembered it. The house had always been hers and Marcus's safe point, in the unlikely event that the whole rebellion would fall apart. Could it really have happened or was it all just a dream? She liked to imagine that this was just a fallback; surely the rebellion had not been completely destroyed? All those years of fighting against the sphere, gaining numbers, reaching that point where they allowed themselves to grow careless and smug with the newly acquired power... It couldn't be over. The very thought was so disheartening that Mila would have sunk to her knees right there and then if it hadn't been for the fact that her son watching her intently.

Mila shook her head, thinking. They would have to stay here for a while, until Marcus came to find them. At the moment, she had no information about the rebellion, no idea of what had gone so terribly wrong. She didn't know how the Sphere had found Angkor but she would surely find out in time. She had to concentrate on the problems at hand now. Firstly, there was a lot of cleaning to do if they were going to live here for a few days. And... It suddenly hit her that they had no food and she still didn't know if they had enough water. A few half filled water bottles wouldn't last long. Feeling a slight twinge of panic, Mila entered the living room, tearing the moth eaten curtains apart to let light in. A dusty sofa stood aside and Mahad yawned again. Mila smiled sadly. She instructed Mahad to sit on the ground and then she placed the baby in his arms and told him to stay put for a second while she cleaned the sofa to clear off most of the dust. Mahad, for once, did as he was told without complaint, holding his baby sister carefully as though she was made of glass and would shatter at the slightest movement.

When the sofa looked acceptable, Mila took Lena in her arms again and Mahad climbed onto it wordlessly, lying down. It only took a few minutes and he was fast asleep – without any tantrums. Mila vaguely considered that that was one of the rare times that he had listened to her.

After that, Mila took to exploring the rest of the house. The kitchen was completely devoid of any type of conserved food and she had expected nothing else. There were some dishes left though. Upon further inspection of the environs, Mila noted that the cistern had in fact collected a considerable amount of rain water.

She released a breath in relief. They had water, perhaps all was not lost. There was hope yet.

She also climbed the stone steps lining the outside wall in the front of the house that led to the room above. That room was crammed with some pieces of furniture, nothing of particular interest. Tired, she finished by inspecting the cellar in the back yard; she wrenched open the thick wooden doors sitting in the dust and a gush of cold, musty air rose from the dark underground. It had been so chilly and foul-smelling down there that she'd had to leave Lena back in the house with Mahad.

Working fast, she combed the earthy underground. And then she saw them; hundreds of glass canisters filled with seeds. Perfectly preserved, the dry seeds of all kinds sat there, glinting in the dusty light, with neat little labels on their surfaces. She wondered who's handwriting it was on those labels; perhaps it was Marcus's father. After all, this old house used to belong to Marcus and his father, until the day the Sphere came over. Marcus had recounted the story before but he hardly ever wanted to talk about it and Mila knew little about his father. She knew that he had been a farmer. She also knew that the Sphere had killed him for spreading rebellious ideas.

Mila's parents were gone too; they had died when she was still a baby. To this day, she still didn't know what had caused their premature deaths, although she had a few dark suspicions. She had spent the rest of her childhood living with the Sphere, where her seijin abilities had blossomed at the Guardian Academy.

How odd it was, to think that she had been a student at the Guardian Academy, not so long ago really; her only concern that of becoming the most powerful seijin. She'd even dreamed of becoming the Lady of light from the Prophecy. A dream she had once shared with Oslo, back when they had still been friends. She had transformed since then of course, because of Marcus. It was so strange to glance at her past self and realize how much things had changed.

It had been Mila and Oslo's initial sphere mission to capture Marcus those few years ago. A sort of try-out phase for newly appointed guardians it was. A challenge. Then everything had fallen apart. The pirate she was supposed to capture, she'd ended up saving from certain death. The result? A young guardian who found herself incapable of killing and a very, very confused pirate, thrown into an unexpected journey.

She'd escaped the Sphere of course, and later joined the pirates thanks to Marcus… It seemed almost laughable now, all the time they had spent fighting and arguing during their escapade from the Sphere. Mila had changed a lot since then. Marcus had changed too, she supposed. They still argued sometimes, but she loved him. And she knew that he loved her too. It might have seemed ridiculous for a former guardian and a pirate to be together at first… And maybe it still sounded stupid. But it had happened.

What an adventure they had been on though! From the Guardian Academy to joining a pirate base in the span of approximately two weeks. Yes, it had been a crazy journey indeed. But that was a whole other story…

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Mila picked up one container which was labeled; Corn.

Well, that was just _great_. They had no food, but they had dry seeds to plant. She didn't have time to wait for food to grow; she needed to feed her children now! Growling angrily, Mila lifted her arm, ready to shatter the container against the earthy wall. But the young woman stopped herself at the last second, placing the canister neatly back on the pile, eyes stinging.

How could everything have fallen apart! She thought despairingly, wiping her eyes hastily. She took a moment to recompose herself before climbing back out.

The rest of the day preceded dully by as Mila worked, almost robotically so, to clean up the living room area. She was starving by now but there was nothing she could do. Did she dare fly off in the ship to a distant neighbor's house? What would she do? Ask for food? That seemed ridiculous; people would never throw their food away because it was 'the right thing to do'. Food was in shortage in most places and now if the Sphere really was rising back to power, then she supposed things would only get worse again.

Lena was crying now. Mahad had finally decided to throw a tantrum and, having tired himself out, was sitting in the corner gloomily. Mila's head was pounding.

And then Mila flinched as bright realization hit her. She'd flown here in the Hyperion, hadn't she? Which meant that there was still hope left! Mila gasped with relief and gathered her children. She then rushed outside to where she'd docked the Hyperion a few minutes' walk away. She arrived at the block edge and, holding Mahad's hand tightly, descended the stone steps lining the very side of the block. A garage door was bolted into the side of the rock face and inside, where she'd left it, was the gleaming ship by the name of Hyperion. Red and grey, it looked out of place in the small stone room; majestic.

She vaguely remembered escaping in it, and how Vector had been there waiting for her at the docks back on Angkor. The old scientist had been standing there, grey hair covered with ashes, waiting just to make sure that she would take off safely with the Hyperion. Apparently, Marcus had asked Vector to convey a message to her. Vector had quickly explained that Marcus had left the Hyperion for her a few minutes before and that she had just missed him.

Marcus had run off apparently, to go collect something important on the burning block. Mila didn't know what that _something _could be, but he must have had a good reason to leave the battle of Azul to collect it and then take off for Azul again with another ship. She still didn't quite understand it. To take the Sphere block of Azul was a major mission that was supposed to be successful… Mila wondered if that battle had failed too. And if its failure was what resulted in the Sphere finding out the coordinates to Angkor…

Mila had asked Vector to come with them, but the scientist had refused. He'd told her that he was taking off to salvage what was left of his scientific work from his destroyed laboratory before leaving for his safe point. Some block by the name of Puerto Angel.

Mila had taken off sadly, thinking that the older rebel would probably not make it out alive.

Now, Mila opened the hatch on the front hull of the ship that lead to the cabin below; she then stepped down the ladder, still holding a crying Lena tightly and guiding Mahad carefully down the rungs at the same time. They stood in the cabin for a moment before Mila dashed to the small sitting area with orange seats and a round white table. There were compartments under the seats which she wrenched open. The first one contained an array of tools, the other a first aid kit, and the other-

Mila froze, eyes widening. A small doll had fallen out of the compartment. It was wearing a wooly red dress and had fluffy pigtails sticking out of its head. It stared into the air, almost sadly, with its button eyes. Thelia.

Marcus had gotten this doll for Lena, thinking that it resembled his daughter. Mila bit her lip as a rush of emotions hit her. No, Marcus wasn't dead. He would show himself sooner or later. He would know how to find her. Mila felt Mahad's hand brush her own as he took the doll.

"Dad thinks it looks like Lena." He said, almost to himself. He compared the doll to his baby sister for a few moments, before shaking his head. He handed her back the doll. "It doesn't look like her at all." He grumbled jealously.

Smirking slightly, Mila rummaged through the rest of the drawer that, apparently, had been stuffed with Mahad's toys. Little metallic airplanes (like the ancient ones used on old earth), some building blocks and - Mila pursed her lip - that damn _boomerang_.

She shook her head. She'd specifically instructed Marcus to hide that thing until Mahad was old enough. He'd taken to hiding it well in reach though, where Mahad could easily have found it.

Did he think this was funny? That boomerang was sharp and metallic. It was _dangerous_.

"OH!" Mahad gasped, wrenching it out of her grip, "I love this thing!" He yelled, swinging it around. "It looks like a bird. It looks cool. It- What is it?"

"That," Mila said sharply, taking it away, "Is for older kids only."

"But _moooommmm_..."

"No buts." She sighed, opening the last drawer. Relief coated her heart and she released a breath she had not realized she had been holding. The drawer was stacked with a considerable amount of provisions that would last them a few days at least.

"I want that chocolate bar!" Mahad exclaimed, reaching forward.

"Mahad that's not a chocolate bar…" She said tiredly. It was some kind of meal replacement bar. Chocolate was extremely hard to come by. Marcus had gotten hold of some once. She guessed their alliance with several agricultural blocks had paid off. Somewhat. She didn't think such alliances existed anymore. Mahad was too young to understand the severity of it all. She doubted he even knew that his father was the leader of the rebellion and that they were all at war.

"Well," She declared, packing the items back into a small bag, "Let's go eat."

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**A/N** _I think it's common knowledge that the Skyland timeline makes no sense, so I had to base my facts for this story on what the characters said in the show. For example, yes I do believe Lena was born already and that Marcus saw her because at some point, Lena mentions that her father gave her a doll (Thelia) when she was little because he thought it LOOKED LIKE HER. So there, Lena's born. And yes, according to most timelines, Mila escaped in the Hyperion. I'll explain how all that happened soon, and what was the mysterious something that Marcus came to retrieve on Angkor... _

_Leave a review!- Laissez un commentaire!_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** _I don't own Skyland. Okay, another chapter! I'm going to try to finish this story quickly because I have more free time now... Review and let me know what you think! :D_

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The morning of the attack had been dark, the silence only broken by the occasional chirps of crickets in the grass outside.

The sky had been nothing more than a blotch of blackness. No stars. No moon. No light to reflect off the slick hulls of approaching sphere ships, armed for destruction.

The residents of Angkor had been unprepared for such a surprise attack. Of course, the coordinates to the rebel base had been top secret. And it had been unthinkable for the Sphere to find them, much less approach them willingly in the unlikely event that they would have indeed gotten hold of these coordinates.

The Rebellion had been a real rising threat before that attack… But the Sphere had been cunning. It was simple really; the Resistance's forces had left to capture major Sphere blocks on that night, leaving Angkor bare and susceptible to danger. Perfect timing for an attack. It wasn't lucky timing, Mila knew. Luck had nothing to do with it. It had clearly been planned out. Something had undoubtedly gone wrong with the mission on Azul. Marcus had probably encountered a problem and this later caused everything else to spiral out of control. What had happened exactly still remained a mystery though.

On the dark morning of the invasion on Angkor, Mila had been at her house with her children. In normal circumstances she would have been out there with Marcus, participating in the fights against the Sphere. But this time she had agreed to stay behind to look after the children. Still, before his departure, Mila had reminded Marcus that she wasn't going to be taking over all his parental obligations too, even if he was the Leader of the Resistance. She'd made it clear that despite everything, she would be right back out there with him the next time a mission came up.

He had replied that he expected nothing less and that was why he loved her.

So there she had been, sitting in the small kitchen, sipping a cup of water, unable to sleep. Waiting for news about Marcus's successful mission. The clock on the wall had read; 3: 28 A.M. She had pictured him already, arriving home later that day, somewhat battered from whatever fight he would've been involved in, but with such brightness in his eyes… A brightness that could only be found in people having lived through heart stopping adventures. Deep eyes, tousled dark hair and a constant, slight frown. That was Marcus.

He should've arrived home that morning. He should've slung his jacket over one of the chairs surrounding the dining room table.

None of the usual routine took place however. No, instead Mila waited in the thick darkness, breathing in the cool air slipping through the open window. Watching the palm tree outside sway back and forth, back and forth, like the ticking of the clock. And then, it was the strangest thing…

The crickets stopped singing altogether. Mila got up slowly, looking out the window.

And then suddenly, as if someone was screaming right into her ear, Mila heard the most horrible, screeching noise ripping the air apart. Next there was a burst of bright light, a rush of displaced warm air and- BOOM! The first bomb hit, destroying a few buildings in the distance.

Mila yelped, tripping backward and sprawling on the kitchen tiles.

Another explosion destroyed the darkness. It was closer this time. And then Mila saw them; outlined against the unnatural brightness; hundreds of sphere ships, looming in on the block like starved sharks towards a promising chunk of meat.

"The Sphere…" She gasped, "No, no… Can't be!"

Another blast rattled the house and disbelief faded to be replaced by pure adrenaline. Her children. She needed to get her children out of here.

Mahad's room was closest, so she wrenched the door open just in time to see the boy leaning against the window as the blasts rumbled outside. "Wow!" He exclaimed sleepily, "Look at the amazing fireworks mom! I-"

"Mahad!" Mila yelled. She took him into his arms and fell aside unceremoniously just as a loud screech sounded just outside. Moments later, the window shattered all over the place.

Mila picked herself up and ran out with Mahad in her arms. The boy had gone very white and he gripped her tightly, eyes wide. "What's happening!" He said fearfully.

Heart beating wildly in her chest, Mila ran off down the hallway and burst through her bedroom door. In the corner of the room, Lena was still sleeping in her crib despite all the noise. Mila picked up the baby gently and paused to grab a thick dark cloak hanging in the wardrobe. She pulled it on rapidly. Then she wrapped up Lena in a shawl and held her close. Next, she turned to Mahad, who was sitting on the edge of her bed, and took him in her other arm, so that he was hidden beneath her cloak.

"Mom… What's going on?"

"Shhh." Mila whispered, teeth clattering with fright, "You have to be silent now. Just keep quiet for a while. It's very important Mahad."

Hair disheveled, cobalt blue eyes wide, Mila crept outside. She spotted bobbing lights up the sandy street. It only took her a moment to understand where the lights were coming from. It was brigs. The Sphere was invading!

Mila didn't have time to think. Pirates were slowly coming out of hiding. One rebel came out of the shadows armed with a gun; he aimed a weapon at the upcoming wall of robots.

He caught her stare. In that brief second, Mila had wanted to fight against the invasion too, but then the man shouted something and reality sunk in. "Get out! Mila go!" He yelled. "Get to the docks, they haven't been struck yet!"

Mila could only afford one second of bewildered nothingness before taking off. Fear mingled with anger and Mila knew not which was more overpowering. The urge to turn back and fight was all too enticing. But the instinct to protect her children cancelled the first feeling out of her brain almost instantly.

And so, the young seijin sprinted down the street just as the shots were fired from the mass of automatons. Retaining a scream, she rounded the corner swiftly, luckily escaping without so much as a singed lock of hair and a few smoldering bullet holes through the flapping fabric on her cape. The shots had missed.

"Mahad, are you okay?" She panted, taking off through the passages again.

"Yeah." He mumbled, clearly confused.

The streets were teeming now. Pirates rushing around the surrounding buildings, weapons at the ready, expressions slack with disbelief. Some people were already injured; clutching broken limbs or trying to staunch the blood pouring out of fresh wounds. Others watched in disbelief, scrambling around uselessly as bright flames multiplied around them, burning houses to a crisp. The smell of smoke was thick and sharp. And the air itself seemed to be boiling, leaving barely any room for precious oxygen.

Some rebels were familiar but most weren't; although most pirates recognized her, even with her thick cloak.

A man bumped roughly into her and Mila pressed herself against the alley wall, fuming.

"Get out of the way!" The man grumbled. When he spoke, it was with a Scottish accent. "Can't you see that I- _Mila?_"

Mila glared at the man from the darkness. He was a tall pirate with flaming (and rather long) orange hair and brown eyes. It was Aran Cortes, one of her close rebel acquaintances and Marcus's friend. He was a sturdy looking man with a rather ever-present sour expression on his face. Despite his intolerance to life in general, Mila knew that he was a kind person. Not that this characteristic was very prominent at the moment however…

"What's happening?" Mila yelled sharply, "How did they find us?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Farrell, did he tell you-"

"He hasn't contacted me…"

There was an awkward pause. The two pirates stood watching each other worriedly as the air slowly thickened with misty smoke.

In the sky, some remaining pirate ships had taken to the air and were now interlocked in a colorful fight to the death with the Sphere ships. A mosquito caught fire and fell through the dark skies like a ball of fire, disappearing over the edge of Angkor with a loud whining noise.

"Something-" Mila paused to brush the tangled hair out of her eyes, "Something must've gone wrong with the Mission."

Aran nodded briskly. "That's it… I knew it was too big a risk! I told him-" The pirate stopped himself, just glaring at her.

Mila was unfazed. "He'll be back." She said firmly.

Another explosion, closer this time. Mila cradled Lena closer to her. If only there was sunlight! If only the Sphere had decided to attack in the morning, she could have used her seijin powers… Perhaps the Sphere hadn't attacked during the day for this reason too; the Resistance had quite a large amount of seijin power on its side too.

Lena was crying now. Mahad started wriggling in her grip, grumbling impatiently about the fact that he was muffled beneath her cloak.

"Go." Aran snapped abruptly, "Get your kids out of here."

Mila had opened her mouth to reply but the pirate took off and soon he was swallowed by the crowd. The seijin coughed again. She hated this, how everyone considered that she needed to escape. As if she was some kind of fragile person who needed to avoid conflict… That wasn't the case. She was strong. She could fight… She'd fought many times before and helped the rebels out of perilous situations… But that wasn't the point; this wasn't about her. It was about her children.

She ran off again, thinking only that she needed to get to the docks. She needed to get her children to a safe place; that was all she could think of. An afterthought lingered in the back of her mind though; perhaps she could come back to help once she'd found a safe place for her children… Perhaps. She knew however, that she would not come back. She would not leave her children anywhere by themselves.

Mila rounded a corner and stopped in her tracks; several brigs had spotted her from further down the street. Mila gasped, backtracked and rounded the corner again to avoid the energy shots; while doing so, the back of her boot collided with something and she nearly tripped. Glancing back, she saw what had tripped her.

Mila shut her eyes as a wave of nausea hit her. It was a dead body. She turned away through another passage, eyes watering. Her heart was beating so quickly that she was half-expecting it to burst.

She knew this block by heart but even so it was difficult to navigate towards the docks. It seemed that every path she decided to take was either obstructed by debris or a mass of robots.

By the time the seijin arrived at the docks, her boots were slippery with blood and her eyes wide with images that she couldn't expel from her mind. Dead pirates, staring blankly into the air… Lying around every street corner. Killed by the explosion or even just a neat bullet hole in their chest.

Fighting down the urge to turn around and join the battle, Mila stumbled onto the docks. The air was churning with smoke now; the horizon blackened and distorted, transforming the tall outlines of palm trees into giant spiders and turning the rubble of nearby buildings into grotesque monsters. Mila shook her head; the smoke was clouding her thoughts.

Thankfully, most of the docks were still intact despite the bombing. While the discovery of Angkor was a Sphere triumph, it was still new territory. The Sphere seemed to have no exact bombing pattern. It was sporadic and intense. They were hitting any inch of the block in sight, not caring to destroy a specific area first.

Their mistake. Rebels were shouting and sprinting across the docks; clambering into their combat ships and taking to the sky.

Without realizing it, Mila had made her way to the Hyperion's usual docking spot. Of course she knew that the ship wouldn't be there waiting for her since Marcus had taken the Hyperion out for his mission…

Mila stopped dead in her tracks as a familiar silhouette came into view, out of the smoke. The gleaming red and grey hull shone out of the shadows. The Hyperion?

Mila drifted towards it, utterly shocked. How could the Hyperion have gotten here? It could only mean that Marcus had flown back here. Marcus was on Angkor somewhere!

Mila was too bewildered to notice the shadow staggering to her side; she jumped as a hand slammed onto her shoulder. The seijin reacted instinctively, ramming her elbow into the attacker's stomach and whirling out of his grip.

She spun around and deposited Mahad on the ground quickly, eyes reduced to slits as she squinted, trying to see her attacker out of the smoky darkness. Unexpectedly, a familiar man came into view, clutching his stomach.

It was an older man with grey hair. Vector.

"Oh, Vector it's you! I'm sorry-" Mila said.

Vector glared at her, but only briefly, "Yes well, it's my fault for startling you…"

"Sorry," She said again, reaching forwards to help him. Vector waved her off.

"There's no time to lose." He spluttered, out of breath, "Take the Hyperion and get out of here…"

"Is Marcus back here?" Mila asked.

"He arrived just minutes ago. He wanted me to make sure that you'd take the Hyperion-"

"I'll wait for him-"

"No," Vector gasped sadly, "Angkor is aflame. We don't stand a chance-"

"Why did Marcus come back? What's going on?"

Vector stared at her. "He came to retrieve something."

"What? What is it?"

A wall of brightness erupted meters away, and a wind of boiling air blew them off balance. Mahad fell over, grazing his hands on the dock surface. He promptly burst into tears. Mila whitened and bent towards the boy, muttering words of comfort as she brushed the pebbles off his scraped palms.

"There's no time Mila." Vector shouted against the clamor, "Now leave."

Mila picked up her son, heart pounding; she jumped onto the hull, and opened the cockpit. Once her children were safely inside, she turned to Vector.

"Where is Marcus going? What's he looking for Vector?"

And explosion hit nearby and the force of the blast made them both topple over again. The rush of boiling air was so intense that Mila inhaled the smell of burned fabric and of her own scorched hair. Mila picked herself up off the hull, and Vector scrambled to his feet with difficulty, wincing and clutching a now scraped and bleeding knee.

"Come. Come with us!" She shouted frantically.

"I can't!" He rasped, "My laboratory… I must salvage what remains of my scientific work." He gave her a sad smile. "Go."

There was no point to argue.

Body heavy with sorrow, Mila entered the cockpit of the Hyperion. Her heart was telling her to stay behind… To wait for Marcus. But that was unwise. She needed to keep her children safe… Marcus was strong. He was a pirate. He would make it out of this mess alive.

Mila watched Vector stumbling away into the smoke.

Abruptly, Mila forced the cockpit window open again. "VECTOR!" She shouted, "Where are you going? If Angkor falls…"

"Puerto Angel…" He shouted, stumbling back a step.

"But where…?"

"I entered the coordinates-"

BOOM!

A wall of smoke smothered Vector away and Mila yelled in surprise. She waited a few seconds. She half-expected to see a bloodied corpse lying there when the smoke cleared. Thankfully, she saw Vector's silhouette running off. He was still alive.

Wasting no more time, Mila took off to the now blood red skies, gritting her teeth angrily. The Hyperion was fast and agile; she outmaneuvered the Sphere ships in a matter of minutes, shooting down a few patrollers with ease. The sky was a mass of explosions and toppling debris so, thinking once again about her children, Mila escaped the battle and zoomed away, out of the smoke. As she sped through the clearer skies, Mila glanced back.

Angkor was nothing more than a gigantic fire, blazing in the sky.

* * *

Mila opened her eyes, the dream still painfully fresh in her mind. It took her a few moments to convince herself that she was indeed on Babylonia. That her children were safe. She was sitting at the table in the kitchen, with her head resting on her folded arms.

It was grey outside in such early morning hours and the only noise what that of a lone dove, hooting softly out of the mist.

The young mother sat there for a while, remarking that she'd been having the same dream for over a week now. How funny it was that she had barely remembered the attack a week ago and now, it was all she could think of.

They'd arrived on Babylonia several days ago. And Mila had checked the Hyperion for messages constantly. But there was nothing. No news whatsoever about the Resistance.

Nothing. A deadly silence as grim as the misty air outside.

Food was running low. They had a good amount of water thankfully, but they were still rather hungry all the time.

Lena had been quite calm during the week though; she was generally a quiet, well-tempered child. With Mahad however, it was a whole other story; the boy had passed the long week asking about his father. Mila had no idea what to tell her son. "He's coming." Or "He's at work…" would only convince the boy for so long. Already, the doubt was showing in his bright eyes.

Mila had successfully cleaned the house to the point that it was now a livable place. A few major repairs were still needed no doubt, but other than that, the house was quaint and pleasant.

It was strange to pass the afternoons outside, sitting on the little stone wall bordering the front yard, with Lena sitting on her lap. Watching her son trying to catch grasshoppers in the swishing grass. It was quiet and peaceful here, but it was too quiet…

The silence allowed her thoughts to twist out of control; Mila was worried sick. She could barely sleep even though she was terribly exhausted. And when she did manage to fall asleep, her mind was plagued with nightmares. She could only review what had happened on Angkor and wonder what she could have done differently. Or sometimes, she'd lapse into frustration, wondering why there was no news about the Rebellion. No one had tried to send her a message or anything! Didn't they understand that she couldn't jeopardize her children's lives just by trying to go out into the Hyperion to go search for answers! Why had no one contacted her yet? Was there no one left?

And Marcus. Where was he? She was starting to lose hope that she'd ever see him again. What if he had indeed perished in the flames on Angkor? No, no… He would've gotten out of there. But then, what if the Sphere had captured him?

And what had he gone searching for on Angkor? What could be so important?

Mila put her head in her hands, breathing tiredly. "Where are you Marcus?" She muttered, staring at the wooden table.

Marcus had to be out there, hiding with the remaining rebels. Because whether or not she wanted to believe it was not the point; the Rebellion had clearly fallen apart.

Some people had predicted this; after all, the Resistance had gotten so enormous that someone somewhere could easily have let slip important mission plans, or the coordinates to Angkor for that matter…

Mila sighed, tracing the pockmarked table top with her fingers. The week had been so unbearably long… She had spent her evenings sitting in the cockpit of the Hyperion, listening to the radio. What little she had heard did not sound promising. The Sphere broadcasts were filled with boasts and claims of rebel killings. It was terrible to hear. The Sphere often stretched the truth but oddly, this time Mila felt like they hadn't stretched the truth at all… The Resistance had really crumbled.

Mila got up from the dinner table and drifted outside into the semi-brightness of early morning, detangling her braided black hair on the way. She had casted aside her old cloak from that evening on Angkor and had stored in a cupboard; bullet holes and all.

She still wore her usual clothes; a long-sleeved red shirt, some brown cargo pants and a pair of leathery boots. But already her soles were caked with clay and grass; she was not equipped for farm country and that was a fact. If she indeed decided to live here, she would undoubtedly have to get some overalls and some appropriate footwear.

The seijin leaned against the brick wall outside, listening intently for any sign that her children might have been awakened by her footsteps. There was no noise. She could sense them close by though, safe and sound in the larger bedroom. It was a plus really, to have seijin skills as a parent. She could just tell when her kids were hurt, or sick or in danger.

Content, Mila watched the grey air slowly glow pinker with the rising sun.

She tried to concentrate on the beauty of the sunrise over the misty fields, tried to think positively despite everything. She could not allow herself to feel grief for anything yet. Nothing was confirmed. She needed facts. She needed to feel the truth before believing that this was truly the end.

Her gaze swept over the adjoining block fragments that neighbored her own piece of land. In a green field in the distance, a few houses sat quietly aside. As she watched, small pinpricks of light appeared. People were slowly waking up.

People on Babylonia were not often bothered by the Sphere; not since the Rebellion's take off at least. But now, Mila knew that the Sphere would start coming back. Little by little, they would infiltrate again. Take control. Steal water from the folk around here.

She didn't see any locals; not up close at least. She'd seen some ships in the distance a few times. She'd also spotted some faraway people walking on the nearby block. An echo of laughter. The distant whine of a ship. That was it. The abandoned house remained isolated from the real world.

Mila was not accustomed to such isolation… Food was running low, questions were multiplying and life was on hold. Sooner or later, she would have to risk taking out the Hyperion to get food or they would surely perish of starvation.

She needed to find answers anyway. If only she knew what had become of the other rebels… If only she could find someone-

Suddenly, a memory hit her with full force. The clarity of it so bright in her mind that she stumbled slightly as the night of the attack rushed forth.

Mila saw herself on the flaming docks on Angkor. She heard her own voice echo; _"Where are you going? If Angkor falls…"_

"_Puerto Angel…" _A man shouted. Mila realized that it was Vector's voice.

"_But where…?"_

"_I entered the coordinates-"_

The sound of an explosion. And reality rushed back.

Mila came to, sitting in the dirt. She couldn't always control the upcoming wall of visions. In her case, memories were particularly strong. It was as if her subconscious used the medium of her seijin abilities to scream out the answers. Plus, the fact that she was exhausted and hungry limited her control on her seijin powers.

It was sunny now. She could hear Lena babbling happily inside the house and Mahad grumbling about being hungry. She must have lapsed away for several minutes…

"Mom?"

Mila rubbed her eyes, rather shocked. "I'm coming." She said shakily, "I'm just outside."

Mahad opened the rickety door and stepped outside. Frowning, he walked barefoot in the dirt towards her.

"Why are you sitting in the dirt?" He asked. In that moment, with his hands on his hips and the frown on his brow, he looked so much like his father that Mila had to smile.

"Nothing. I just fell over." She answered, picking herself up quickly.

* * *

Later on, when she was back in the Hyperion, and Lena was sleeping in her arms again and Mahad was busy playing with his toy airplanes in the cabin, Mila sat in the cockpit. She waited in the silence for a few seconds, searching the air for answers.

Vector had mentioned something about entering the coordinates to Puerto Angel someplace. With this vital information in mind, Mila could only guess that Vector had left the coordinates somewhere in the Hyperion.

He couldn't have scribbled down the numbers on a piece of paper during the attack so she was quite convinced that the coordinates were held somewhere in the Hyperion's computer.

Why hadn't she remembered this before!

The bright orange glow of the control panel, with its many glittering screens, looked promising for the first time all week. Mila knew that her questions would be answered this time. She tapped the screen to activate it and searched for new data. It took a little while to find something, but at some point Mila spotted a file, floating in the void. When she opened that file, a set of meaningless numbers came up.

Could it be? Were these really the coordinates to Vector's hideout or was she simply going insane in her quest for answers? Mila couldn't be certain. But a bright feeling was expanding in the middle of her chest. Vector could still be alive out there, on another block. He could help her figure everything out… After all, Mila had no other rebel contacts left. She could only guess that all rebel bases had been evacuated, if they hadn't been destroyed before that.

And Marcus. She hadn't heard from him in a week- No, she would not start panicking. She would search for facts first. Nodding sternly, Mila looked upwards, a fierce glare in her deep blue eyes.

She was going to find Puerto Angel. Even if the coordinates were somewhat inexact, Mila was determined to find Vector. He was the last one that she knew of to have seen Marcus alive.

She could only hope that Vector had indeed made it to Puerto Angel… Otherwise, everything would truly be lost.

* * *

_Please leave a review! - Laissez un commentaire!_


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N _**_Don't own Skyland. This chapter is short but this IS going to be a shorter story after all. ;) I've just been concentrating more on drawing lately. And going to the cottage. :)_

_Just thought I'd mention that I'm simply writing this story to keep my brain active during the summer months. No school, mind-numbing job = no good. Plus, I can honestly say that I think this is the last Skyland story I'm ever going to write. I've moved on from Skyland (Never thought I'd say that :O). This might not be as action-packed as my last Skyland story, but that doesn't bother me. This is purely a gap-filler story. _

_Anyway, r__eviews are always appreciated! :) _

* * *

"Are we there yet?"

"Not yet."

"… How about now?"

Mila sighed impatiently. "No Mahad…"

"… Now?"

Mila's temper flared and she glanced back at her son, who was sitting in the back seat. "Mahad, that's enough!"

"But its taking forever!" He whined, retaliating with his own wave of irritation. He sat back with a sigh. "Where are we going again?"

His mother's glare softened and she bit her lip, turning back to focus on the sky ahead as she piloted the Hyperion.

They'd left Babylonia earlier that morning; Mila had made up her mind about taking this voyage ever since she'd found Puerto Angel's coordinates in the Hyperion's computer the day before. It was now late afternoon, and the coordinates she was aiming for were less than an hour away. Still, the skies were empty.

Taking out the Hyperion had been risky of course, because it was such an iconic ship. A symbol for the rebellion. Accordingly, Mila had flown away from major blocks to avoid attention and no Sphere ships had engaged pursuit. Thank god.

Presently, clear blue skies bubbling with bright cottony clouds surrounded them. That was it. She hadn't seen any fragment of land for the past hour. Obviously, whatever coordinates Vector had left behind were sending her directly into the outskirts of Skyland. Right now, they were smack in the middle of the fringes; a less populated area of Skyland that bordered the edges of the Archipelago. Mila considered that it did make sense to use such a remote location for a rebel hideout; the Sphere had barely any control on the fringes. Plus, the Sphere didn't often bother swerving out of the Archipelago unless perhaps it was looking for untouched blocks, where natural resources blossomed still. But such pure blocks were rare. And beyond the fringes… Beyond the Archipelago was the unknown. Endless skies. Freak storms. Many a ship was lost without a trace in those parts.

Needless to say, Mila was worried. If they kept flying like this they would surely lose sight of the Archipelago. Getting lost did not fit in her plans; they'd been through so much already. On top of that, pesky doubt was starting to fill her mind, adding to her pulsing headache and making things even worse. She had been confident about leaving Babylonia for Puerto Angel at first. It had seemed like the only thing to do since they'd been out of food. To stay hidden and die slowly or take a chance for survival. It wasn't even a choice. Perhaps she was naïve that way. Stubborn and desperate. Either way, she'd stocked up on water and stored the bottles in the cabin of the Hyperion. Worse come to worse, they could survive for a long period of time on water alone.

Mila was relying on finding Puerto Angel to survive. She'd always feared that disaster could've struck, that her children could have been hurt because of her involvement with the Rebellion. Because Marcus Farrell was their father.

It wasn't right for them to suffer because of her choices. They would have never come to existence if she hadn't defied the Sphere in the first place to join the rebels… But somehow, Mila felt no regrets. She did feel extremely wary, but at least she had a family. Something the Sphere could never have substituted or erased from her mind.

Her stomach twisted again. Her headache pounded. She sighed crankily.

Mahad groaned copiously; he was impatient and hungry too. Lena was alright though; she had a bottle of milk grasped in her pudgy hands. Mila could handle being hungry. They had almost always been hungry ever since she had joined the rebellion. At first she hadn't been used to it (they'd always eaten like pigs back at the Guardian Academy) but now, she could tolerate it. Mahad however... He was just a child. She couldn't expect him to tolerate anything and she certainly didn't blame him for being irritable. She hated to think that she couldn't provide food right now… But that was why they were out here of course. To find shelter; and answers.

"Mom, where are we going?" Mahad asked again.

"We're going to try to find a bloc." Mila responded simply, checking the control panel as she flew the ship. The radar screen was blank. Her eyes drifted slightly upwards, were a scrap of paper was wedged between the shimmering glass screens. It was a glistening photograph of her and Marcus, entwined in a close hug. Marcus always left the picture there.

She felt like the Marcus in the picture was faraway, almost like a ghost already… As if he had never even existed. Terror engulfed her senses when she stopped, even for a second, to think about him. She could not afford to remember him at all. Not now.

The young mother looked away, glancing back at her son. Avoiding eye contact with the empty radar screen and the glossy photograph that only worsened her anxiety.

"A bloc?" Mahad asked.

"Yes."

"Oh." He paused. "Are we going to a restaurant there?"

Mila laughed slightly. How did he come up with these questions? She'd never been to a restaurant with her children. There weren't many restaurants outside Sphere territories anyway. The fanciest place she and Marcus had been at was… Oh yes, some rowdy bar filled with loudmouthed rebels. Mila wrinkled her nose.

"No, why would you think that?" She said.

"Because I'm really hungry and-"

"I know honey. I know. I'm sorry."

Mahad fixed her with an expectant stare. "Are we going to see Dad there?"

"It… It depends."

Mahad looked downwards glumly. "Why doesn't he want to come see us anymore?"

"No, no... It's not that. Your father loves you and Lena more than anything in the world Mahad. You remember that. He's just…" Mila paused, momentarily frozen with grief. "Very busy."

Mahad sighed angrily. Lena let out a loud laugh and babbled nonsensically as if she found Mahad's expression extremely funny.

Mila couldn't help but smile. She lay a kiss on her baby's head and cooed as she cuddled Lena. Mahad groaned and slip face first on the seat, completely consumed with boredom. He let out a muffled grumble before lifting his head. "Are we there yet? This is _soooo _boring… Hey what?... WOAH LOOK OUTSIDE!"

Mila jumped. "What!" She yelped with surprise, looking around and expecting enemies closing in on them.

"LOOK! LOOK!" Mahad stood up on the back seat, pointing outside. "It's so COOL!"

And then she saw it. A brightly coloured mosquito soaring beside them peacefully. Gleaming like a rusty red insect and whining accordingly.

It hovered there, following serenely. Mila stared. She could glimpse the outline of the pilot, who gave a slight, friendly wave. Mila didn't return the wave. She instead focused on the newcomer, not forcing herself into the strangers mind exactly, but just trying to sense the emotions. After a moment, she pulled back abruptly and smiled. He was a pirate… _He was a pirate!_

No wonder the radar hadn't alerted her of the ship's presence. Obviously it was recognized as friend not enemy. Only a tiny gleaming dot was glimmering on the screen. A bright little alert she had surely missed when she had turned away from the controls to comfort Mahad.

The radio buzzed with static and Mila flipped the switch to accept the transmission, jittery with excitement. She leant towards the screen, trying to see through the haze of orange. It was not a familiar face on the other end. It was a young man with dark skin and bright eyes.

"… _I'm telling you it is Farrell. No I'm not even kidding- Er, hello?"_

"Hello." Mila said, speaking loudly against the static.

"Hi!" Mahad exclaimed, leaning over. Mila shushed him impatiently.

The pilot squinted, looking at them. _"… Hold on you're not-"_

"This is Mila Farrell."

There was a pause. _"…Oh. Yeah of course."_ He mumbled, recognizing her.

"Look, you're the first rebel contact I've had since the attack on Angkor. Can you take me to your base? I think it's called-"

_"Puerto Angel. Sure. I can lead the way."_

"Thank you." Mila sighed. For the first time in days, the future seemed bright. They weren't going to perish. Puerto Angel wasn't a figment of her imagination. "What's your name?"

_"Wayan."_

"Thanks Wayan."

He nodded, smiling. _"I'm sure the others will be glad to see you... It's been such a mess. We don't know who's alive, who's dead. I've lost track."_

The way he said it made Mila's happiness deflate. "So the Resistance?"

His gaze hardened. _"…Well. To tell you the truth, most of us were wiped out. Not sure what happened to the other rebel groups either."_

Mila sighed despairingly. "I'm sorry." She breathed, the words coming out of their own accord. She felt somewhat responsible for the downfall of the Resistance. She had helped plan out many fights. And she still didn't understand what had gone wrong with this particular battle. Surely someone would clarify the situation once she got to Puerto Angel. The young pilot was laid back and cool, but he seemed wary to return to the base. He was undoubtedly just a scout, on the lookout for enemies.

_"Ill lead the way."_ He said, nodding coolly.

The mosquito sped forwards and the Hyperion followed after it.

* * *

_Remember to leave a review! - Laissez un commentaire!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N Still don't own Skyland! ;) Just want to say that this story is entirely based on the few existing Skyland timelines out there - and of whatever facts I could retrieve from the episodes. I always try to remain faithful to the show so as not to cause any inconsistencies (because I know that gets really annoying). That's why I'm writing this story anyway - because the uneven timeline annoys me and I feel like I have to explain any unanswered questions! :)_

_If you're reading this, please take the time to leave a review! Reviews = :D_

* * *

Mila didn't know what she had expected. Perhaps she had expected someplace vast and overpopulated; a block teeming with life; a gathering boiling with the promise of another uprising.

Puerto Angel however, turned out to be nothing like Angkor.

For starters, the block was small. Minuscule. Nothing but a sleepy, drifting port in the middle of nowhere.

Most of the block was occupied entirely by grassy, yellowed fields. The only interesting characteristic on Puerto Angel was the large lighthouse sitting on the upmost cliff edge of the block, looking like a giant red-and-white sentry.

As the Hyperion approached, clumps of brick houses came into view. There was a little town sticking out of the dreamy grassiness about midway up the block. However, Mila noticed that most buildings bordered the edges of the rock face itself, multiplying along a giant crevasse zigzagging into the heart of the block.

Wayan's mosquito led her into this cavernous fissure. It was apparent that this area was used as a docking bay; the environs were glinting with metal walkways and railings, ready to accept ships. There were a couple of measly looking ships near the entrance but as the Hyperion sped further into the crevasse, a thick silhouette stood out of the shadows.

It was a large pirate ship. And Mila recognized it immediately. It was Aran Cortes's ship; the St-Nazaire. Or maybe it was the Callisto? She wasn't sure. Either way, it was reassuring to set eyes on such a grand pirate vessel.

That something as imposing as the St-Nazaire could have survived Angkor seeded hope in her heart. Perhaps the Rebellion wasn't gone after all; perhaps the rebels had simply been scattered across Skyland.

"_Here we are." _Wayan mentioned over the radio.

Mila gave an uneasy, forced laugh. "It's very-"

"_Small?"_

"Well… I mean it's a perfect place for a hideout because it's so-"

"_Unimpressive?"_

"That's not what I was going to say…" Mila smirked.

Wayan's mosquito swerved away to find its docking area. Mila piloted the Hyperion into a gentle deceleration and the ship floated to a halt beside a metal walkway.

Mahad had stood up as soon as the ship had stopped, and he now had his face pressed against the cockpit window as he looked outside.

Lena gave a random yelp to fill the silence.

It didn't take time for people to arrive next to the ship; shadows were already accumulating outside, talking loudly.

It was strange, but Mila felt slightly nervous about stepping out of the ship. Marcus had ordered the attack that had ultimately caused the Rebellion's downfall. What if people were angry? What if they wouldn't accept her?

She didn't have time to dwell on these anxious "ifs" however; she had come here for answers and that was what she was going to get.

Without hesitation, Mila opened the cockpit window. She motioned to Mahad, who followed behind as she climbed out of the cockpit and onto the metal hull outside.

There was a gathering of at least a dozen people along the railing, and they fell silent at once. Now they were just staring at the newcomers with dull eyes.

There was no shine of kindness in their expressions; if anything, these people looked disappointed and frustrated. Perhaps they had expected Marcus to come striding out of the Hyperion.

Mila pursed her lip, and stepped forward, holding Lena tightly against her and taking Mahad's hand into her own.

She opened her mouth to speak; utter a greeting, or just _say_ anything at all… But no sound came out. She just stared at the strangers. The pirates didn't look good; they looked discouraged. Sickly. One man had a bloody eye patch over his right eye. A woman stood aside awkwardly, leaning against a cane; one of her legs was twisted at an odd angle.

Their clothes were rugged and scorched. Their hair was disheveled.

The young mother had hardly finished taking in their terrible expressions that a newcomer weaved his way roughly through the group of people to stand in front of them all, soon joined by Wayan.

"Aran." Mila called, relieved to see a familiar face.

The red-haired pirate shook his head grumpily. "It's Cortes." He said.

Mila smiled slightly and stepped off the Hyperion. She had the strange urge to throw her arms around Cortes, because she was so relieved, but pushed that thought away almost immediately and extended her arm instead so that they could shake hands.

Cortes's gaze rested briefly on Mahad. The boy immediately stuck out his tongue at him.

Cortes frowned slightly. He looked over the silent rebels briefly before snapping his attention back to Mila. "Come on, let's get out of here." He snapped abruptly.

Wayan nodded darkly, elbowing a path through the pirates. Cortes followed after him and Mila did so too, her heart beating urgently inside her chest.

They began walking into the depths of the crevasse, toward an entry way into what seemed like some sort of tavern. The assembly of ghostly pirates faded through the shadows.

"What's the matter with them?" Mila asked, "Cortes, what's going on?"

Cortes flung the tavern doors open roughly and spotted an empty table in the far corner of the room, where the eyes of surrounding people wouldn't follow them. He strode towards it briskly, casting challenging glares at the few rebels sitting at the bar.

Cortes's hair glowed redder than ever under the orange lighting in the room. His hair had finally grown so long that he had attached it in a ponytail.

Wayan spoke up as they took their seats. "I think all of this is might be my fault."

Now that they were sitting next to each other, Mila realized just how tall Wayan was. She had to look up just to catch glimpse of his face and his bright green eyes.

"When I first spotted the Hyperion, I just supposed that it was Marcus in there. That's what I told the others before-"

"They're just tired." Cortes interrupted impatiently. "We might be the only ones left. I don't even know. Angkor was in flames and the Sphere outnumbered us. From what I heard, most of us are dead."

"I was there. I know how bad it was. It's not like we had a choice. It was either escape or die in the fire. But… But we can't just suppose that everyone else is gone. Not yet. It's too soon and they might just be hiding on some other block, you don't know that…" Mila said.

Cortes didn't appear the least bit convinced and looked like he'd just barely contained an angered retort for the sake of not scaring her small children.

"The Resistance fell Mila."

"It's only gone if we give up." Mila retorted, angered now.

"Who said anything about giving up?" Wayan demanded. "We're here aren't we? Cortes's ship – The St-Nazaire – Is still intact. We've got a good amount of mosquitoes."

"But we lack the manpower." Cortes noted.

"Doesn't matter. Sooner or later people will start showing up again. It'll just take time." Wayan said.

"Wayan's right. I mean, if I managed to escape Angkor with my children, then I'm sure others had time to make it out alive too." Mila said, keeping a close eye on Mahad as he slid from his seat to go explore the underside of their table. She stretched an arm under the table, caught hold of the boy's shirt and snapped at him to come out and sit properly. The boy obeyed with a scowl. Mila sighed impatiently and glanced back at the two men. "And Angkor wasn't the only rebel base."

"But it was our main base Mila." Cortes said, "You left before the real bombing began."

"I didn't really have a choice," She answered, glancing at Lena who was currently slamming her hands repeatedly into the table. The baby seemed to enjoy making a lot of noise to attract attention.

"I know that. But that doesn't change the fact that you didn't _see_ Angkor burn to a crisp. Maybe if you had, you wouldn't be arguing with me."

Mila froze, pale with fury.

"Look." Cortes sighed, gaze softening. "I'm not saying that I'm giving up here. I won't stop fighting. But I am going to be realistic about the whole situation. And the truth is, the Rebellion is back to square one. It's going to take years for it to grow again. And with the Sphere having murdered most of us… It won't be easy for the rebels to regroup."

Wayan gave a thoughtful nod.

Mila said nothing, looking grim. She fell into a deep silence that lasted several minutes as let the building anger ease away; she then decided to spend her energy pinpointing the most imminent of questions besieging her brain. When she finally spoke, her voice was sharp, as if she was trying to spit out the words all at once; "I waited on Babylonia for a whole week. Marcus… He never showed up. No one's heard of him here either."

There was a pause. Mahad looked up rapidly, eyes wide.

Cortes waited a moment before giving a minute shake of his head. No.

Mila exhaled angrily. The boy simply looked mystified, as if waiting for another mention of his father's name.

"How did you find Puerto Angel anyhow?" asked Wayan, smoothly changing the subject.

"Oh. Well, this man I know. Vector. He left me the coordinates- Wait… Vector! Is he here too?"

Cortes gave an impatient grunt.

"Oh yeah. _Him._" Wayan smiled, "He spends his days cooped up in that old lighthouse."

Mila grinned weakly. "Great! He saw Marc- saw _him_ during the battle. Maybe he knows something…"

Cortes didn't meet her gaze. He instead fixed the table-top with an intense glare. It was Wayan who took notice of Mahad's endless mutterings of "I'm hungry" and of Mila's jittery hands.

The young family was offered food (it was a measly amount of food, but it was enough to staunch the empty pain in the pit of their stomachs at least) and they must have spent an hour in the tavern, finishing up their conversation between mouthfuls.

After they had eaten up ravenously, it was Wayan, again, who had the initiative to offer a tour of the block; therefore Mila would be able to visit Vector's lighthouse without delay. And so, stomachs filled and the world coming back into focus, they continued their walk along the block and soon they were out of the docking area and out into the fresh air. They trudged through the small village of stone houses. The place seemed rather deserted, safe for a few children playing further down the street.

Mahad was walking up ahead, now full of energy. He turned around and shot a grimace at Cortes.

The man shook his head with a scowl.

"So, Puerto Angel isn't a pirate block is it?" Mila noted.

Wayan shook his head. "Nope. But they're sympathizers to our cause. We provide them with water, they provide us with shelter and-"

"And they keep their mouths shut." Aran said, irritated. Mahad had now taken to copying his expression by frowning theatrically and pulling his hair. "Besides," Aran pursued, looking away pointedly, "the Sphere doesn't venture here often."

Mila nodded, noticing Mahad's shenanigans from the corner of her eye.

She guessed Aran and Vector had used this block as their safe point, just as she had used Babylonia. Except, in her case, she was in the middle of Sphere territory. It was a quiet sector, but still… It could be risky. It depended which way one looked at it.

They walked to the edge of the town and stood before the grassy expanse leading to the lighthouse.

"Vector should be up there." Cortes said.

"Thanks Cortes."

"If you need anything, we'll probably be down in the tavern." Said Wayan.

"Aye." Cortes sighed, "I haven't seen Vector for a few days. I swear, he never leaves his lighthouse. I don't know how he does it- Cooped in there all day- Argh!"

The reason for Cortes's random outburst soon became apparent; it was Mahad who had decided to pick up a pebble and aim it at the man's head.

"Mahad!" Mila said, grasping the boy's shoulder and pulling him aside. "What has gotten into you? – I'm so sorry Cortes, he isn't usually like this- Now apologize."

Mahad pouted. Cortes growled, rubbing his reddened forehead.

"Now."

"Sorry." He mumbled.

Wayan burst out with laughter, turning away.

"We'll see you later." Mila said, ushering the boy away hastily.

"… Aye." Cortes growled, glaring at Mahad one last time before turning away.

* * *

The trek up the hill to the light house was longer than expected. Firstly because they were tired. Secondly, because it was scorching hot. It was a good thing that there was a constant, chilly breeze shattering the wall of humidity so that they could keep going forward.

When she finally arrived next to it, the lighthouse looked enormous; Mila felt even more discouraged when she entered it and saw the long winding staircase leading upwards.

"Hello?" She yelled, "Vector are you up there?"

There was no answer.

Mila sighed, switched her sore arms around to hold a drowsy Lena more securely and began the long climb. At the top of the stairs was a wooden door; a long, straight flight of stairs leading towards an open area lay behind it. Mahad complained all the way up.

Mila arrived at the top and stepped into a large circular room. This main room was loaded with plump, faded armchairs, what seemed like a million wooden end tables and some pieces of machinery. The whole place was bathed in the afternoon sunlight seeping inside from the large windows lining the walls.

There were even _more_ stairs lining the inside of the tower, leading to the upper levels of the top of the lighthouse. It was darker up there, because of the shadowy bookcase coated walls.

The place was completely silent. The only noise filling the room was a slight hum emanating from a laptop computer sitting on a long wooden desk; the surface was cluttered with a mass of graph paper sheets, books and pencils.

Mahad found a nice armchair and settled onto it proudly, holding what looked like a magnifying glass to the light. He must've snatched the object from the clutter.

Mila would've told him to put it back, had she not been distracted by a shuffling sound coming from behind the computer screen on the desk. She approached slowly, and stopped. The pile of papers had just… _moved?_

She reached forwards and tore off a large piece of paper loaded with coordinates and outlines of different areas of Skyland. The sheet fell away to reveal a person. It was an older man with grey hair. He was fast asleep, face-first on the desk, hands still outstretched towards the keyboard. One of his hands was inadvertently putting pressure against the keys and a stream of letters was filling against the screen, spilling out a load of gibberish.

Mila laughed quietly. She prodded the man in the shoulder. He immediately sat upright, spluttering sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Then he squinted at Mila, looking at her through a haze of sleepiness, realization slowly brightening his face.

"M- Mila? Is that really you?" He exclaimed, clambering to his feet and spilling over a stack of thick books. "How did you get here? I- I can't believe this!"

"Yes! Yes it's me!" Mila laughed, rushing forwards and hugging the baffled man tightly with her free arm. He didn't return the hug because he was still so shocked and Mila pulled back quickly before he could react. "I can't believe I found this place either!"

He shook his head, smiling now. Mila sighed theatrically. "Now I can understand why you never come down from here. The climb up here was brutal!" She paused to catch her breath, motioning excitedly to Mahad and Lena. "You know my children."

Lena had fallen asleep, her head lolling against her mother's shoulder.

Mahad waved, losing grip on the magnifying glass. It toppled to the floor with a clatter. "Hi." He muttered guiltily. "Hey. I remember you." He noted, slipping behind the chair to retrieve the fallen object.

Vector nodded with a chuckle.

"Well," Vector said, clapping his hands together, "We have a lot to talk about."

"True." Mila agreed, smile fading.

After they were settled comfortably in some squashy armchairs next to the window, Mila began recounting her part of the story. It took a while. Then Vector recounted his story too; apparently, after she had lost sight of him on the docks on Angkor, he had ran back to his laboratory to retrieve his maps and all the data of Skyland topography that went with them before dashing out of the building that had crumpled minutes later. He had ran back to the docks and had dashed onto the St-Nazaire (one of the only remaining ships) to join up with the surviving rebels to escape the flames. They had been at least twenty to come back to Puerto angel. The rest of the rebels had either escaped alive, had perished in the sky battle or had disappeared in the bombing.

The Sphere had attacked to kill and Vector doubted they would have bothered taking prisoners then.

After all that talking, the sun was already setting and Mahad had fallen asleep in the old armchair. Lena still dozed sleepily in her arms. Mila was grateful that her daughter was not an intolerant, writhing baby; she was calm and peaceful most of the time.

Mila figured they would have to face the question sooner or later so she pounced on it at once. She needed answers.

"Vector… What… What happened exactly? What went wrong?"

The man ran a hand over his face. In the golden light of evening, she could see how much older he looked… As if he had aged a few years in the past week; the wrinkles around his eyes were deeper and there was paleness to his skin that just didn't look right. Mila wondered if she looked sickly too. One look at her reflection in the window proved her suspicions correctly.

"We've been debating about that ever since we got here." Vector said. "But I think we finally came up with the answer though. News travels fast around Skyland you know… And I know what happened to the Resistance."

Mila sat forward, listening eagerly. "What was it? Did someone rat us out?"

"Yes… And no." He sighed frustratingly. "The Resistance had gotten too big. It wasn't contained.. It-It was spread out too largely, constructed on a loose foundation of trust. People couldn't be expected to conceal such a large mission plan. It just didn't work. The Sphere obviously found out about the attack we were about to lead against them."

Mila bit her lip. It was true that the attack had been of a large caliber; but she had agreed with Marcus. That attack would've ended the Sphere once and for all anyway. Their initial plan had been to take every major block harboring the Sphere's water supplies. Blocks with large storage towers which were guarded jealously. Water was power after all. And the idea was that, without water, the Sphere had nothing. No form of control over its people. It was risky, but Marcus had met up with other rebel leaders from all over the archipelago. After discussing for hours, the pirates had come up with this outrageous plan; to capture the water plants and to get rid of the Sphere once and for all.

The plan had been well received by the rebels back on Angkor generally, who had been bloated with overwhelming confidence. The rebels had been divided; some would stay behind to guard Angkor (like Cortes) and to stand by. Others would take off to the attack points and strike.

The attack had been perfectly planned, expertly synchronized. Mila couldn't believe word could've gotten out…

"How?" She asked, "We spent so much time preparing for that battle."

"Even so. How could you be certain that all those other rebel crews were being as efficient? Word got out. I'm not sure if someone really ratted us out. Perhaps so. In the end, it doesn't make any difference."

"Did you see it coming Vector? The end?"

He paused, staring downwards sadly. "… No." He admitted quietly. Now the anger in his expression had faded away and he stared blankly at the floor.

"Me neither. We'd just been through so much; and Marcus, he was so confident that we were going to win this time- I just… I guess I just lost focus of reality..."

"It's not like that. We would've won. Things just got out of hand at the last second." Vector said.

"So… Obviously, word got out of Angkor's coordinates. And of the attack. But what happened during the sky battle? We could've destroyed the Sphere's forces. Our pilots were unequalled."

"That's where things got serious." Vector said, "Some of the pirates here, they survived the attack on the block of Azul. As you know, this block was one of the main targets for the plan. They saw what happened…"

"What…" Mila whispered, tense with fear.

"When they got close to the block… It just. It exploded."

"_The block exploded?_ But all the Sphere's water supplies… That was a desperate move."

"The Sphere was desperate. This was their last bout of strength Mila. They were willing to sacrifice everything to vanquish us."

"So the rebel fleets were all simultaneously-"

"- Destroyed."

Mila gaped. "Marcus made it out of there in the Hyperion. And- and he tried to reach us but then-"

"He found Angkor in flames too. There were no back up forces left to spare. Every last surviving ship was busy defending Angkor."

"So that's why the Sphere waited before invading Angkor. They wanted to strike us all at once. To catch us off guard."

Vector nodded.

"I should've known!" Mila grunted, slamming her fist on the small end table. Her arms glowed and wisps of seijin energy sparked in the air around them. Lena woke up with a jolt in her arms. "I should've seen this coming! I went to the Academy! I studied military strategy… I-I lived most of my life with them…"

"Mila," Vector said nervously, "No one could have foreseen this..."

Mila got up, pacing around angrily and stopping to stare outside the window. The blue glow around her was electrifying the air, making nearby objects tremble ominously. The glass was shaking in the window pane. "I was stupid! It's my fault… I could've stopped it. I could've stopped Marcus but I let him go." Her eyes swam with tears. "And now he's gone."

"You don't know that for sure. Look, I saw him. On the docks. And I- I still haven't told you what he went searching for. He might still be out there."

"What do you mean? No one here has seen or heard from him since-"

"That's because he was taking off to hide something important. The very future of Skyland depended on this last mission. I'm so sorry, I should've told you earlier-"

Mila wiped her eyes angrily, fixing him with a fierce glare. That was true. She still didn't know what Marcus had gone searching for on Angkor…

"He left the Hyperion for you because he knew it was the safest escape route for you and the children." Vector said, answering her thoughts, "After that, he went to retrieve the Cube."

Mila frowned, eyes wide. The seijin glow around her disappeared. "The Cube." She breathed, "The cube with the coordinates to all free blocks liberated from the Sphere… He went to hide it."

"Yes."

"Do you know where he went?"

"I have no clue. I was too busy dodging the bombs raining from the sky."

"Right." Mila breathed, panting with relief now "So Marcus is out there. He went to hide the cube. He must've known things were out of hand. He had to do this.. To protect all of us."

She buried her face in her hands, weak with relief.

For a while the air was still, and Mila could only feel her tense muscles unwinding and a wave of intense tiredness hitting her after a dozen days worth of worry seeped away.

"He's alive. He has to be. I would've felt it… If he had died."

Vector stared at her. "You should get some rest."

Mila shook her head. She was just glad that Marcus wasn't one of those dead bodies, burnt to a crisp back on Angkor.

She looked at Mahad who was sleeping on the old armchair and she sighed as she contemplated the long climb down the light house with her two kids in her arms.

Still, the idea of a worry-free place to spend the night was enticing. She wasn't alone on Babylonia without answers anymore. Her mind was calm now, and for the first time in days she felt like she would actually fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She thanked Vector for everything. She briefly contemplated that she must have uttered the words "thank you" more than two hundred times during their long conversation.

Mila hugged him briefly, gathered her children and left. When she stepped out of the lighthouse, the sky was of a deep navy blue and stars were slowly coming out; only a streak of vivid crimson remained on the horizon, where the last sliver of the setting sun still peeked above the curve of the planet. She trudged across the dark grass, watching the quaint little stone village sitting ahead, thinking how safe this place seemed. How peaceful.

She also reminded herself that she couldn't let herself be careless. Never again. This was still a pirate block; who knew if the Sphere would find them tomorrow, encountering the pirate ships hidden in the docking bay.

Life was uncertain now. But she was here. She had her children. And Marcus… He was out there. She couldn't let herself think otherwise.

If she did, then she would surely fall apart.

* * *

_A/N The Cube is an object mentioned in the Skyland ep; Red Rock People. Oh yeah, and according to most timelines, Vector covered Mila's escape during the attack so that she could take off with the Hyperion. See? I'm really sticking to the facts! :)_

_Leave a review! - Laissez un commentaire!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N I don't own Skyland. C'mon. ;)_

_I want to thank you _**Guest**_! Thanks so much for your review! Please leave some more if you keep on reading! Reviews really encourage me to update more quickly! Reviews = fast updates. :D_

* * *

Now that Mila actually managed to fall asleep at night, she found that her mind was plagued by strange dreams. Not bad dreams necessarily; yes, the night of the attack on Angkor often pressed itself into her subconscious, but she was so used to it now that that dream no longer made her jolt upwards in bed in the middle of the night, with her heart beating fit to burst.

What she had were bittersweet dreams. Visions of the not so distant past, when Marcus was still around. Casual things really, flashbacks of real, everyday life. Taking care of the kids. Going about their business on Angkor. Conducting plans against the Sphere with the other rebels. And maybe, just maybe, when people weren't around, she would reach out and hold his hand.

It's not that they didn't love each other; quite the contrary. It was simply that they didn't want to attract any unwanted attention. The less attention was brought on their relationship the better. Although, it was rather hard to keep it on the down low when everyone knew they had kids.

It had been difficult for them sometimes; people would whisper and rumours could rapidly spread. A rebel leader with an ex-guardian. Many people thought it madness that Marcus even trusted the seijin girl. But Mila had learned to adapt to her rebel lifestyle. Mostly, being a pirate meant being tough; maybe tougher than they had expected her to be at the Guardian Academy. To be a guardian was to put on a façade of no emotion. To be a pirate was to face emotion head on everyday and fight it down. There was a difference.

Tonight, she dreamt about when it was just her and Marcus. When they were younger; back when she was still a new addition to the Resistance. The rebels had travelled a lot back then. At first, the pirates had been hiding out in the abandoned ruins of New York City. After a few months, they had moved on to another secret base and another… At one point, the pirates had taken residence on Temuera.

Temuera was an area of Skyland filled with gigantic reddish blocks covered by jungle. It had been a beautiful sight at first, all those verdant forests, still intact and flourishing. The inhabitants respected the wild lands dearly and that was why their homes had been dug out inside the blocks themselves. The people had literally carved out mazes all the way through the rock, providing shelter for their society. Newcomers could not possibly be expected to navigate through the mazes without the help of one of the natives. This too, had been an alluring element that had first attracted the pirates to this place.

It had been a perfect hideout, even if their stay there ended up being short. Mila's dream brought her back to an incident, one dark night on Temuera, when her younger self had decided to go wandering out alone.

She'd heard of the native tales of the legendary artifact called the Origin and curiosity had quickly taken the better of her. A rock supposed to increased seijin powers tenfold, lying somewhere in the maze? How could she possibly have resisted that? She had wanted to push the greedy feeling away, but in the end she had gone looking for it anyway.

She hadn't found the Origin that night. What she had found was that she had quickly gotten herself lost. The first hour of walking around through the dank passages had been tolerable. The second one, worrisome. But when several hours had passed, and when glimmers of untraceable sunshine had started piercing the darkness, panic had set in.

The lone skeletons she'd seen earlier hadn't exactly lightened the situation either. Perhaps there had been just one skeleton; she could have been going around in circles and not realizing it… Still, the point was that she had set eyes on a human skeleton. The poor soul had undoubtedly gotten lost. An intruder most likely, for the natives had no problems memorizing the environs.

But Mila wasn't a native. She was a guest.

Panic. It was not a good feeling. She had shouted for help and her own echo had simply taunted her.

It had taken him all day long, but Marcus had finally managed to find her. Mila had felt resentful that it had taken him so long to acknowledge her absence. But it was like that between them… She'd never question his absences just as he wouldn't expect her to be with him all the time.

He had called through the maze, and she had called back and they'd managed to trace their echoes back to each other, thanks to the map Marcus had borrowed from the people of Temuera. The young man had taken particular fun at shouting out random swear words through the passages because he knew that Mila's laughter was easy a sound to trace.

Finally, disheveled and tired, they had ploughed into each other, laughing uncontrollably. Mila had already made peace with the fact that she would become the laughing stock of Temuera after making it out... But she hadn't expected to be laughing at herself before that.

Marcus had looked handsome that night. He'd always had a way of looking good even if his dark hair was untidy all the time. Even if his boots were caked with mud and his clothes were dusted with a layer of fine sand.

They had taken a moment, just standing alone in the quiet maze. There had been some kissing. Alright, perhaps there had been a whole lot of kissing but that was beside the point…

After they were done stealing kisses between burst of laughter, Mila had taken a step back and given him a slight shove.

"What took you so long?" She had demanded grumpily.

"I didn't know where you were!" He had laughed, "You're the one who took off in the middle of the night... _Alone._ In a _maze_. For crying out loud – Mila sometimes I wonder if you get into trouble on purpose-"

"I get into trouble on purpose?" She had asked incredulously, her lips twitching into a smile, "Me? Not you? You, who takes off in the Hyperion just for the sake of starting a fight with some Sphere ships… Ships that aren't even guarding a water carrier. Ships that are just floating there, minding their own business..."

Marcus had ran a hand through his hair, looking downwards with a smile. "That's different. You knew this was a suicide mission."

Mila had waved her hand dismissively. "I don't have a death wish, Marcus."

"Then why'd you come out here anyway… I spent hours trying to find you. And-" his stomach had growled, "Now I'm hungry-"

"You're always hungry." She'd teased, "Besides, I just decided to take a walk. I didn't know I had to ask for your permission."

"Hey! If you weren't getting yourself into trouble all the time, then maybe I wouldn't have to come rushing to your rescue -"

Mila had laughed. "_Rushing to the rescue_... That's funny. Need I remind you who saved your life at the Guardian Academy?"

"Well… That was you… But- But that doesn't count… You were the one who got us captured in the first place-"

"Oh really? Hmm. Well, who saved you two days ago when you fell off that ledge? I had to levitate you to safety. You're lucky I'm a seijin Marcus, otherwise you would have had a one way trip to the earth's core."

"Alright, I see how it is…" He had said, taking a sly tone of voice. "I admit, you saved my life a couple times." He'd circled her until her was standing right behind her. "But you have to agree that the only times my life has ever been in any real danger, is when you've had a part in getting me into danger in the first place."

Mila had opened her mouth, and closed it rapidly. There was some truth in that. The time they had been captured and brought at the Academy had been partly her fault. What with her being a guardian in training who had deserted the Sphere in order to help Marcus escape capture and certain death. Her colleague and friend at the time, Oslo, had managed to find her again since she had inadvertently left a streak of seijin energy in the sky during a battle. Oslo had traced it back to her presence. But that was a long and complicated story.

A few days ago was another story though; when they had first arrived on Temuera, Marcus had been standing on the block edge, listening to their native 'tour guide' as he detailed the mystery of the Origin – the legendary rock Mila had gone searching for – to the young couple.

It was only when Mila had seen a particularly large spider on Marcus's shoulder that things had gotten bad. She had attempted to zap the arachnid with her powers, but the burst had been too powerful and had literally flung Marcus off the ledge. Oops.

"Okay." She had conceded, turning to face him. "We're even."

He had shrugged and laughed. They had kissed once more. It was then that he had first whispered the words "I love you" into her ear.

And the dream faded abruptly. Marcus's deep, laughing eyes. His tousled mass of hair. His bright smile. All gone.

The cry of a baby demanding for attention had woken her up. Mila groaned an opened her eyes. It was still grey outside. She was lying in a small bed in an equally small room. The pirates of Puerto Angel had provided her and her family with a small apartment for her stay here this week.

The place was terribly small. Beyond the wooden door of her bedroom, there was a closet-sized bathroom, and around the corner was a tiny kitchen and living room. That was it.

Mahad, who had been sleeping by her side, was also awakened by Lena's cries and he sighed angrily. "Tell her to shut up!" He yelled, lifting his pillow and slamming it over his face.

Mila yawned and got up. Today was their last day on Puerto Angel. She was rather thankful that Lena had awakened her already. There was much to be done.

The stay on Puerto Angel had been pleasant enough. This was partly because Mila had had peace of mind for the first time in weeks. There wasn't much action on the secret rebel bloc. The heat was so intense here that most residents were forced to stay inside all day; evenings were slightly more lively though, when you were lucky to spot a few pedestrians wandering down the street. It was as if Puerto Angel floated in slow motion, cut off from the rest of the world and isolated to its own time zone. Every day was the same; hot and lazy.

The pirates themselves tended to keep to the tavern in the docking bay where they sat around, restarting the same conversations all the time. When Mila entered the tavern around midday to speak with the pirates, the echoes of conversations all relied to the same subject; that of the Rebellion's downfall. It was as if they had lost the urge to fight back against the Sphere and now contented themselves to relieving the monstrosities having occurred on that night.

They were giving up. They had only taken out the ships twice this week to attempt to capture a Sphere water convoy. In both instances, the pirates had returned empty handed. The residents of Puerto Angel were edgy; they considered that the pirates were responsible for gathering water. That was their deal after all; shelter in exchange for water.

As Mila made her way up the stairs to the second story of the tavern, she realized just how dangerous a place Puerto Angel could be. Even now, glares followed her climb up the stairs. Angered looks directed towards her and her children. She wouldn't be getting any of those looks anymore though; she was leaving today.

If someone had told her when she first arrived here that she would be leaving for Babylonia again after just one week here, she would have laughed. But after many hours of discussion, it was decided that this was the best option for her and her children. It was considered that Mila could actually keep her children safer on Babylonia than they would be here. They were too small and innocent to live amongst mutinous looking pirates. Most rebels were reluctant to accept Mila on the block, as if they considered her just another mouth to feed. Well, three mouths to feed really. In the end they had truly made her feel like a freeloader; however, she honestly didn't know what else she have done… At the time, her children had been starving back on Babylonia. They would have soon died had she not joined the rebels, at least for one week.

Mostly, Mila had talked with Vector, Cortes and Wayan up in the lighthouse, since they were the closest friends she had here. Vector had pointed out the obvious by stating that keeping her children safe was her main concern and therefore she should devote all her energy to that, and not on the fallen Rebellion. Cortes had grunted something inaudible. Wayan had come up with the idea that if she resided on Babylonia, it would be strategic since that was the location that Marcus was supposed to meet her on eventually.

Mila had agreed after a while, that what she did want more than anything was for her children to be safe. And in this instance, the only way to keep them safe was to make them ignorant. They didn't understand who their father was, not really. Only Mahad knew his first name but he mainly called him 'Dad' so the name Marcus would fade away after awhile. This lack of awareness would help to keep the children safe until Marcus showed up again.

It was considered a temporary plan; she would start over on Babylonia and keep her powers a secret. Mahad had only seen her use them a handful of times lately. And if she stopped altogether she doubted he would notice any difference. She had mainly always used her powers during battles and it wasn't as if she had been careless enough to let her son anywhere near that sort of danger.

This way, her children would be able to grow up normally, without having to live with the fear being harmed because of their father's actions. They would know nothing about him.

Mila would have to become a farmer though, and she still mostly disliked the idea; she had been trained to fight her whole life. And now, all of a sudden, she was expected to live the passive life of a farmer. She didn't mind living on Babylonia; what bothered her was the complete gap that would form between her and the Resistance if she stayed there. Also, she knew not the first thing about becoming a farmer.

Vector had handed her several books on agriculture. Wayan had recounted a few of his stories (his uncle had been a farmer on some block when he was younger) and he had also noted that she could ask neighbours for help if worse came to worse.

Mila still didn't know what to think about that.

Now, the young mother made it up the stairs and joined Cortes, Wayan, Vector and a few other pirates at a large table. They looked grim and concentrated, as usual. They all looked up as the young family arrived.

"You ready?" Wayan asked Mila.

Mila nodded, hoisting Lena upwards a little and giving a confident grin. She didn't feel confident at all; she did feel a slight twinge of betrayal though. "Hyperion's in great shape. It's not like I had to pack anything. Just the books Vector gave me. I just tidied up the apartment. Thanks for letting us stay here a while though. I really appreciate it." Her speech was fragmented and feeble sounding. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so let down.

Cortes nodded.

Vector looked downward.

Mila cleared her throat. "So…" The question she was about to ask disappeared. She wasn't asking again. She didn't want to sound stupid.

Vector leaned forward. "We do think it's the best plan for now. If we ever hear about anything… About him, we'll let you know."

Mila said nothing. She remained silent for most of lunchtime. She didn't speak as Vector, Cortes and Wayan escorted her to the Hyperion either. It was only when the three were settled in the ship that Mila spoke up.

She glanced at her children, trying to fight the prickling sensation building behind her eyes. "I think I'm making the right decision." She said aloud, almost grimly.

Wayan frowned. "It's not like you're leaving the resistance. You're just-"

"Taking a well deserved vacation." Vector laughed weakly.

"Mila," Cortes said, eyes softening for the fragment of a second, "Good luck with everything. Lay low and er- Good luck."

"Thanks Cortes." She murmured.

"You'll be alright for the trip back…?" Vector started nervously.

"Vector, I've piloted the Hyperion hundreds of times. I'm quite capable. Plus, a large pirate ship like the St-Nazaire escorting me home would only attract attention."

"Yes… Yes you're absolutely right." He paused, wringing his hands, "You're sure you have everything?"

"Vector, come on!" Cortes shouted, "She's a pirate. She knows what she's doing."

Mila smiled slightly. "I trust I'll see you all soon enough. I know where to find you at least…" She winked at Vector, "Thanks for everything."

He nodded, leaning forwards. "Remember, you can sell some of your water or seeds to make some money to start out. Don't be afraid to overprice the water…"

Mila gulped, "But-"

"If you want to fit into Sphere territory then you must act like a local. Oh, and don't resist when they come by to reclaim taxes. Just… Just act natural. They just send brigadiers over anyway..."

Vector looked distraught, as if he was sending her off to die. Mila knew he felt somewhat protective of her. She'd always seen him a sort of a father figure since joining the rebels.

She sighed. "We'll be fine. This is just temporary. Until Marcus shows up again."

Then they all exchanged their final farewells and the Hyperion took off. The three pirates stood there watching the Hyperion until became but a glinting speck in the distance, finally disappearing completely into some faraway clouds.

* * *

_A/N Temuera is the setting for one of the Skyland episodes. I decided to make it so that Mila and Marcus had been there once before in the past because a character in that episode mentions that Mila had some involvement with the Origin. Oh yep, I also mentioned the Origin. Staying loyal to the show see? :)_

_I decided to include Marcus in this chapter... He might show up later on. If I decide to stretch this story longer than it's supposed to be. It depends on how much feedback I'll get I suppose... :P_

_Next, things will take a turn for the worst! YES! There will finally be some ACTION AND FIGHTING! I'm eager to write more. So anyway, show your support. Reviews=quicker updates! :D_

_Leave a review - Laissez un commentaire!_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N Sorry for the delay. :P I know I said I'd be updating soon but then I went to the cottage for a week; no internet connection there. After a week of swimming, boating, jumping off some freakishly high rock cliffs into the lake (That was SCARY. So naturally I climbed the cliff and jumped off five times.) - Oh, and also getting a tan! :D Do you know how much time in the sun a redhead needs to get a tan!? :P_

_Anyway, the point is I'm going to have to update often now because I absolutely want this story finished before september when I go back to university. So yep. Oh and, I'm not a pilot (I know, surprising right?) so I have limited knowledge on how a ship... works... exactly... :S So if anything doesn't make sense, just let me know and I'll fix it immediately. ;) Hope this chapter is okay; I've re-read it so many times that the words have lost all meaning to me :P _

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"No, this can't be happening... No!" Mila said.

In retrospect, perhaps she should have expected something like this happening. But their trip from Babylonia to Puerto Angel had been so smooth that she must have inadvertently let her guard down. Still, who could have expected this along the fringes of the Archipelago? Only an hour from Puerto Angel? The Sphere was really trying to exterminate any remaining scraps of the uprising it seemed, because now Mila was really in trouble.

The Hyperion had been spotted and recognized. The Sphere ships had come out of nowhere, scattering in her field of vision like a school of silvery sharks.

It had all happened so rapidly that Mila was still too shocked to think. And then the first shots had deflected off the metallic hull.

It only took one look at the photograph still wedged on the control panel for Mila to take action. Marcus's shaded eyes seemed to lock with her own, and fury ignited. She was not going to let the Sphere take anyone else from her family. Her main concern was to try to escape these Sphere ships first. She didn't want to cause a commotion; that would surely lead to more trouble. But at the same time, Mila was prepared to shoot down anyone who would dare to get in her way.

"Mahad," She said urgently, looking back at the confused boy. "You'll have to hold on to Lena."

"But-"

"Be very careful handling your baby sister- Here…" Temporarily switching on the autopilot, she motioned to Mahad to sit next to her, on the front seat adjoining her own. The boy sat down and gripped Lena carefully in his arms as Mila settled the babbling child into his arms.

A blast rattled the ship and Mahad's eyes widened. "Why- Why are they trying to shoot us down mom?"

"Mahad-"

He fidgeted where he sat, peering outside. Mila could only visualize him letting go of the baby in his distraction. "I don't understand-" He started.

"Mahad, would you just sit still!" She snapped. The boy froze, going pale. Dimly, she realized that she had never shouted at him like his before. Her heart wilted slightly but she knew there would be time to explain everything later. "You'll have to hold on to your sister, do you understand?"

"… Okay, fine." Mahad grumbled, holding Lena against him.

Mila nodded shakily and took to the controls. "Alright?" She asked.

"Yeah!"

"Hold on then."

"Yeah, _I know!_" He said crossly.

Mila sighed and, even though it gave her a headache to concentrate on two things at once, she kept stealing glances at the children while flying the ship. She dismissed the pain building behind her eyes with a shake of the head and focused on the sky ahead.

It was time to show those sphere ships who they were messing with... Or at least, who they thought they were messing with.

Abruptly, she sent the Hyperion into a dive and shot through some thin, wispy clouds. The cloud cover wasn't thick enough though, and it faded away far too quickly, leaving the Hyperion bare again within seconds.

The Sphere ships dove copiously and followed behind the Hyperion. There was no way she could hide from them in the first place, but she had hoped that cloud cover could have slowed them down. It didn't faze them at all, and they kept pursuing closely.

They were flying through hazardous fringe territory. The air was thick with yellowed mist, and the ships often had to swerve around sporadic chunks of debris coming out of the fog. Mila had taken this route through Skyland because it was a path less travelled by. Yes it stretched the duration of the trip back to Babylonia, but at least it had been a more devoid area. Or so she had thought.

The patrollers just wouldn't let the Hyperion out of their sight. They followed as Mila swerved through the scarce clouds; they scattered whenever she attempted to shoot them down. It was getting tiresome.

The Sphere had really showed up at the worst possible time… She had children on board… It wasn't as if she could perform any overly complicated maneuvers to try to shoot them down. If she could, then there would be no sphere ships left. But she certainly didn't want to risk being shot down while attacking the enemy.

Mila groaned in frustration. Why had the Sphere attacked _now?_ She had been going to start over on Babylonia…

So much for a fresh start.

Now she was out of ideas and if she didn't think of a plan soon they would surely end up being interlocked in a fight to the death. If the Sphere was anything, it was persistent. They wanted the Hyperion destroyed. They wanted Marcus Farrell dead.

This sparked some short-lived happiness in Mila; if they thought she was Marcus, then obviously they hadn't captured or killed him yet.

She glanced once more at the photograph on the controls, as if asking for some sort of guidance… A faraway part of her brain told her that the picture had been taken days after the rebels had departed from their initial hideout of New York City, years ago. The pirates had stopped by on a nice little country block for a few days, and this was where Mila and Marcus had taken the picture…

And then, as quick as a flash of lightning, a plan grew out of thin air.

Of course! Why hadn't she thought about this before? They were in the outskirts of Skyland. And, they weren't that far away from the ruins of New York City. Actually, all the recurring lumps of debris were drifting crumbs of the ruined city.

The skies of New York were littered with danger. The place itself was hazardous; perpetually bathed in a coat of yellow mist, the ruined city overflowed with angled brick walls, knots of twisted piping and glinting electrical wires… It would be the perfect place to lose enemies, especially since she knew the environs by heart, having lived there for weeks with the rebels.

New York really wasn't that far from here. A few minutes away. Maybe her plan was rushed. Maybe it was crazed. But she had learned from Marcus that those were sometimes the most successful plans.

It was then that Mila realized that every decision she could possibly take would end up being dangerous; so, she stuck to her initial plan. She spun the Hyperion around, slicing straight through the deep yellow mist. A tangle of debris lunged at her from the fog but she swerved away from it, continuing her race through the muddy skies.

The patrollers followed closely behind, copying her movements with mechanical simplicity. She was dealing with brigs. Their flying was brisk and rhythmic. Predictable.

She allowed herself to breathe. At least she wasn't being pursued by a Guardian. Now she had only to concentrate on losing those ships in the debris field so that she could continue her voyage back to Babylonia.

As if on cue, there was a deafening explosion outside and scraps of burnt metal were tossed through the air. A patroller had gotten tangled in a heap of debris. It looked nothing more than a smoky twist of molten metal now.

Mila smiled fleetingly. Mahad laughed. Lena stopped babbling and was startled into silence by the loud explosion.

The Hyperion sped through the debris encrusted sky for several minutes, twirling around lazily and waiting for the patrollers to commit suicide face-plants on scraps of ruined city.

Still, the two remaining patrollers didn't let up on the chase. They kept on pursuing with the same, unrelenting intensity. Mila knew why the Sphere was so determined; firstly, taking down the Hyperion would be an exploit. Secondly, killing Marcus Farrell would truly crush the frail remains of the Rebellion.

This was why she was sickened by the Sphere. It was this thirst for blood… It was revolting.

She briefly considered that Marcus would have probably destroyed all the patrollers by now, had he been in her position. As much as it pained her to admit it, he was a much better pilot than she was.

Whereas he gravelly outshone the Sphere ships, Mila felt that her piloting skills were equal to most guardians. They'd attended the same Academy after all. That was one of the downfalls of having lived with the Sphere most her life; she lacked the creative skills that pirates had developed by themselves. She was systematic and methodical. Marcus… His flying was completely chaotic. Maybe that's what made him such a successful pilot.

The skies were gloomier now; the yellow air dusty and thick. Crumbling heaps of debris came out of the mist more often and Mila had to fabricate some serious aerial pirouettes to avoid wrecking the Hyperion. Plus, she always kept a constant watch over her children; reading Mahad's expression and trying to keep the Hyperion stable enough so that he wouldn't be flung against the cockpit walls like a ragdoll.

Mahad looked fine. Actually, he seemed to be enjoying the flight, shouting insults at the enemy every now and then. He'd shouted out some nasty swear words. Mila was certain that he had picked those up from his father and, for a second of madness, Mila found herself angry at Marcus.

Lena seemed more and more perturbed by the unsteady flight though, and Mila could tell by the baby's sudden silence that Lena would soon start crying.

All of a sudden, a massive imprint of darkness tarnished the mist. A ripple of fog curled away and the remnants of New York City emerged.

It was a muddy horizon of destroyed brick buildings. Most edifices weren't even right side-up. They floated at an odd angle, seemingly growing out of the mist. It was grotesque mess.

And it was exactly what she needed; Mila knew this labyrinth of broken city like the back of her hand.

The Hyperion raced forward and sped down a streetless passage, squeezing around brick walls and edging around sharp corners. Mila barely paid attention to the enemy; she concentrated only on flying into the most confusing pattern possible, all the while trying to remember where she was going…

Her hands were slick with sweat on the controls; her fingers sore from gripping the joystick so tightly.

The Sphere ships gradually lost track of her progress through the maze. At some point, one of the icons on the radar screen blinked out.

Only one to go and it hadn't even taken her ten minutes.

But the surviving patroller was persistent, and it was always just around the corner behind her. Soon, Mila found herself sending the Hyperion into a measured deceleration… The Hyperion had floated slowly into a square lined with yellowed brick buildings. There was a rusted automobile shell dangling from old electrical wires on her right; it was this landmark that helped Mila situated her approximate whereabouts in the labyrinth.

A long brick building loomed overhead, hovering silently in the mist. She recognized this edifice; it didn't look like much from the exterior, but inside, Mila knew, there was a large open area that the rebels had used as a type of garage when this was their hideout.

But the opening on the roof by which the ships used to enter was probably rusted shut and Mila knew not if the doors even functioned anymore. No one had been here for years.

She quickly contoured the precarious mess of wires and entered the square, wincing in the bright mist. Mila sighed impatiently at the patroller's icon on the radar screen. Flying the Hyperion was too much of a hassle. It was too easily recognized…

She needed to blend into the scenery. The Hyperion needed to hover out of sight and wait for the patroller to find it.

Quickly, Mila picked up speed and halted next to the large building, on the right where the shadows were dense. There was a spindly metal walkway contouring the walls which she used to shelter the ship out of sight for a while.

Mila paused for a second, concentrating on breathing only, with her eyes fixed on the misty square ahead. There was only one passage leading into this opening… She would be able to spot the Sphere ship immediately if it indeed managed to make it here in one piece…

There was a glint of metal ahead and Mila nearly jumped before realizing that the sliver of light had only come from the shell of the old car shifting in the breeze on its webbing of blackened wires.

The air was darkening slowly; the golden mist was gradually letting place to a pinkish hue. The sun would soon be setting. She could already feel the grip on her seijin powers weakening.

Mahad stared at his mother until Mila stared back sadly. Lena whined pitiously; a sort of moan that preceded crying. "Shh..." Mila breathed as she reached out and stroked Lena's cheek. "It's okay. Don't cry..."

"Why were those ships trying to shoot us down?" asked the boy curiously.

Mila opened her mouth to speak but the words she was about to utter were extinguished in her throat.

The dot on the radar screen was close now. The sphere ship was mere seconds away.

"Hold on a second..." Mila said distantly. She needed to concentrate and time everything perfectly. Suddenly, there was a glint of silver hull outside as the patroller came out of the passage.

Mahad spotted the ship too and he froze, mouth hanging open. Lena, apparently bored by the lack of attention, reached up distractedly and grabbed a fistful of Mahad's hair, tugging viciously. "Hey, ow! Lena!" He exclaimed.

Lena giggled.

"Shh… That's enough." Mila scolded.

Mahad's face reddened. "It's wasn't me, it was-"

Mila cast him a stern look. "I don't want to hear it."

The young mother remained very still as the ship slid out of the shadows, prowling around like a gleaming shark. The Hyperion was well hidden around the corner of the building it seemed, because the patroller slowed down abruptly, confused.

Mila could only sit stock still, powerless as her heartbeat invaded her ears. She flinched; thumb hovering over the button that could shoot down the enemy ship.

"Shoot it." Mahad mumbled, still trying to uncoil Lena's tiny fist from his hair. "Mom, shoot it-"

"Hush."

The patroller inched slowly forward, slicing the mist into twirling tendrils.

Mila leant forward, and fired.

The ship was either too slow or too shocked to react because it caught a hail of shots all along its left side. It swerved sideways abruptly, so that the hammering of shots chipped and grazed at its sleek hull. But the patroller had swung right toward the web of wires in its panic, where the old automobile was hanging. Within seconds, one of its wings was completely entangled in the metallic web. It twisted and pulled erratically to free itself, shooting wildly into the air. In the end, it only managed to trap itself further.

_Stupid brig_, thought Mila, as she watched the patroller struggle against the netting.

After a while, the ship stopped struggling and hung limply in the wires, screeching against the husk of the car. Dead insect shells in a monstrous spider web.

Mila contemplated the mess. She was ready to take off with the Hyperion when suddenly, an idea struck her. Here she was, sitting in the Hyperion, while there hung a perfectly good sphere ship meters away.

… Did she dare? The Hyperion wasn't exactly low profile. What if she was spotted again on Babylonia? Then everything would truly be lost.

She hadn't expected such an opportunity rising; her initial plan had been simply to shoot down the patroller, not to lure it into a humongous spider web.

She paused, leaning back in her seat, weighing the risks. The Hyperion was fast and agile, but too easily recognized. She'd been lucky that the ship hadn't been spotted that first time on Babylonia. The patroller was intact and functional, and would blend into the skies; at least for the little while it would take the Sphere to notice that one of its ships had strayed off course…

But if she was quick, she could borrow the patroller for a few hours, and exchange it for another ship. Being a pirate meant that she had been in contact with some rather unsavory people on the black market; she could easily trade in a relatively new patroller for an old ship. Theses thieves usually dismantled ships and resold parts to other equally unsavory individuals. It could work.

Both plans seemed perilous, but somehow, Mila had already made a decision. She couldn't keep the Hyperion hidden on Babylonia for the length of time she'd be staying there. It was almost a death wish.

"Stay here. I'll be right back." Mila told Mahad.

She opened the cockpit windows and stepped out onto the Hyperion's smooth hull before sealing the cockpit once more; then she staggered forward, gripping the underside of the metal walkway for support. Mila stepped back and gently levitated herself onto the walkway.

The seijin landed softly and flattened herself against the wall without delay, panting. It was silent, safe for the creak of rotting buildings.

She glimpsed back over the railing to make sure that Mahad wasn't following before brushing her braided black hair backwards and starting a slow but steady walk down the squeaking metal path. She cringed at each creak of frail grating beneath her feet as she made her way to the front of the building. Mila ducked abruptly to avoid ripping her face open on a rusted shard of piping sticking out of the bricks before arriving at the edge of the path.

The entrance door to the building was steps away on her right but she ignored it, instead leaning against the railing to peer closely at the patroller, which still hung immobile in the webbing. She couldn't see the brigadier through the thick glass window, but she could envision the robot, sitting there stupidly, at a loss for what to do.

The thick mist was darkening with every ticking second. The sunset was at its peak and soon the darkness of night would slither forward and extinguish every last ray of light. She needed to be rapid.

She concentrated on the patroller, closing her eyes. She focused until the patroller's cockpit came into view, like a flickering image in the back of her brain. She saw the brigadier sitting in front of the controls, typing something on the screen. Mila tipped her head and wisps of blue seijin energy coated the robot; the brigadier convulsed in a haze of electric sparks before slumping to the floor, inactive.

Mila opened her eyes and stepped back against the door.

"Hey mom, can I come outside too?" Mahad shouted, his small voice echoing along the walls.

So he'd opened the cockpit window. Mila shook her head. "No, stay where you are, it's too dangerous out here."

"Aww c'mon, you never let me do anything!" He said.

"Stay there with your sister until I come back."

"But I'm bored-"

"_Mahad…_"

"… Man, this sucks."

She glanced back down the walkway, and when she saw that Mahad didn't have an arm hanging out the cockpit, she closed the glass with her powers, sealing the children safely inside the ship again. She didn't want Mahad wandering out and falling off the edge of the ship.

Next Mila focused on uncoiling the thick webbing to release the patroller; after several minutes, the Sphere ship was freed from its prison. The patroller hovered towards her in a mist of blue light before halting next to the walkway. It turned around to dock and the door opened with a loud clanging sound as it hit the metal railing. All of a sudden, the ghostly blue light encircling the hull flickered and faded out. The last trickle of crimson sunlight had finally slithered away, leaving the square barren and dark. A mural of deep purples and blues settled onto the brick walls.

Mila sighed and prowled into the patroller, giving the ship a quick inspection and discarding of the dead brigadier. She dragged the heavy robot outside and threw it over the railing where it disappeared without a sound into the misty sky. Then she strode back down the walkway. It was a little more difficult to disembark the spindly walkway without her powers this time, so she had to scramble over the railing, climb down the rusty bars and drop onto the Hyperion's hull. The drop was enough to jar the bones in her feet and she gasped, stepping about in place, waiting for the nagging pain to recede. Then she was back in the cockpit with Mahad and Lena. Mahad looked irritated to say the least; Lena was still squirming about in his arms, trying to grab hold of his hair.

"Mom…" Mahad groaned through clenched teeth.

Mila smiled a little and took Lena in her arms; the baby relaxed almost instantly, reaching out and holding her mother's face. "You don't pull people's hair out." Mila said soothingly, knowing that Lena was too young to understand. "It's not very nice."

"No-it-is-not!" Mahad grumbled, crossing his arms. "Can we just go home now?"

Mila wasn't sure what 'home' looked like to him, since they hadn't had a stable home in weeks, but she nodded all the same.

"Soon." She whispered, reaching out to push the hair out of his eyes; he leaned away from her with a grouchy sigh. "Mahad," She said, "Thank you for listening to mom. And for taking care of your baby sister."

Mahad shrugged grumpily.

"You were very brave." She said.

He shifted, looking at her with the shadow of a smile. He didn't pull away this time when she lay a quick kiss on his cheek; he did rub his face with a grimace afterwards though.

* * *

The next twenty minutes went by incredibly quickly. Firstly, Mila flew the Hyperion around and docked next to the glinting patroller. Then the young family stepped out of the Hyperion and Mila was faced with a dilemma; there was a lettered keypad providing access to the building and she had not the slightest clue what the password was. The minutes ticked by until finally the young mother kicked the door with frustration; to her incredible surprise, the door swung open with a creak. It hadn't even been properly closed in the first place. It's not like the rebels had left anything behind anyway, just an emptied, dusty interior.

The other incredible surprise was that the panels on the roof slid open on the first try, illuminating the dank insides of the building. In a world where things always went wrong, Mila felt that this string of luck was an incredibly alien thing.

Once the Hyperion was safely docked inside, Mila rummaged through the cabin to collect any stocked items; like the water bottles from Babylonia, Mahad's toys, Lena's doll and the first aid supplies. She didn't look back as she left the Hyperion in the silent darkness. She didn't blink as she closed the door and faced the lettered keypad once more. It seemed as if a password hadn't even been set on the keypad in the first place so it was easy to enter a new one. She glanced at the small doll in her daughter's tiny hands and entered the new password. Thelia. No one would ever think of that. Heck, no one would ever wander into the deserted city anyway. For now, the Hyperion was safely hidden.

But the mere twenty minutes it had taken to successfully lock away the Hyperion were worrisome; the Sphere was fast and diligent. They would recognize that one of their ships was missing by now. She had to act fast.

As they climbed into the patroller, Mahad turned to her, a quizzical look on his face, perhaps wondering why they were leaving in a strange silver ship. She didn't bother explaining.

Soon they were all crammed in the cockpit and the ship took off into the mist.

It was only once they were an hour away from New York City that Mila felt a pang of heart wrenching sadness.

She'd forgotten the photograph in the Hyperion.

* * *

_A/N Well... What do you think?_

_Leave a review! - Laissez un commentaire!_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N** I'm back! I don't have a choice really; I want this story finished before September. _

_I don't think I ever wrote a chapter so rapidly. I just got back from work. What should have been an uneventful walk home after work ended up being rather stressful... First off, some random cyclist almost ran me over (He would have plowed into me had I not jumped out of the way) and then, I was walking across the bridge when I noticed something... There were spiders. Everywhere. All along the railing, hundreds of big, hairy spiders! D: It was disgusting! And there were sticky spider webs clinging all over me! It was a nightmare! I honestly don't know why there were so many... I walk there all the time and this has never happened before. Maybe they're attracted to the light posts or something... *shudder*_

_Only one chapter to go! Please leave a review! I love feedback! :D_

* * *

The sun was hot, the soil was dry and the blue sky glowed from above, cool and mocking. The blocks of Babylonia floated in a medley of bright greens and golden yellows; frilly horizons of lush foliage. Every single block was green it seemed, except Mila's own small piece of land.

Her land wasn't green… No. It was more of a dull brown. And there were no perfectly aligned rows of vegetables; no square fields of cereal adorning the ground. In fact, the land hadn't changed all that much since the new settlers had arrived here, a month before. Expect perhaps, if one counted the patch of scratched soil in front of the house as change; where someone – an inexperienced someone by the looks of it – had attempted to grow... well, _something_.

One month. One month and that was all it took for Mila to lose it.

"I hate this." Mila muttered as she attacked the dry patch of earth with a rake. "I hate this. I hate this. I hate this…"

She kept murmuring the words, over and over, until they looped and became an everlasting song invading her brain. The words always reappeared whenever she tried farming. Now the phrase was permanently etched into the inside on her skull, just lurking there, ready to pop out and spread negativity whenever she tried doing something productive. It's not like she hadn't tried being positive… It's just that it wasn't physically possible for her to be optimistic anymore.

Whatever hope she'd had of Marcus coming back was quickly fading, instead being replaced by anger. Where was he? Why hadn't he shown up yet? Because of his disappearance, Mila now had to raise her two young children by herself. That wasn't an easy task; not when she was simultaneously learning how to farm. Her days always ended up fragmented into frustrating pieces; she would have to rush inside whenever Lena cried, or needed to be taken care of; she needed to work and somehow entertain Mahad at the same time.

"Go catch crickets in the field.", "Go play with your toys." Or simply "GO." Didn't work with the boy. Mila wondered how Marcus could ever have kept him entertained in the first place... Maybe it was a father-son thing. Or perhaps Mahad simply needed his dad. Sadly, there was no possible way that she could ever fill that gap. Certainly not now, when Lena needed most of the attention.

And if raising the children by herself wasn't enough, Mila had to deal with the impossible task of farming. At first it had seemed possible; plant a few seeds, wait a while and _voilà!_

Reality hit her like a brick wall.

What used to be fields surrounding the old house had still been a mess of wild weeds and brambles when she had returned from Puerto Angel. She somehow needed to tame that mess. But she had not enough farming tools left in the brick house, and most good shovels or rakes had been rusted and chipped at best.

Equipped with whatever tools she had found, Mila had set out to farm. She'd worked for days, uprooting unwanted reeds from a large patch close to the front yard of the house, brushing the earth until no unwanted plants remained. And then came another problem; which seeds should she plant?

There were hundreds of stacked canisters in the cellar… So she'd picked corn first.

But only a few measly sprouts had pierced the soil, and they all looked on the verge of dying already. There wasn't enough rain! And she didn't want to waste drinking water on this sandy soil…

Then she'd attempted just sprinkling random seeds here and there, hoping other plants would have more resistance to heat. And now her garden was a proper mess. She couldn't tell one damn yellowed sprout from the other and she was getting thoroughly depressed just by looking at it.

She'd read Vector's books on agriculture of course, but reading about farming and actually doing it were entirely different things. The books had given her an insightful overlook on farming, but nothing could ever have prepared her for this.

How could she ever survive here if she couldn't even farm properly? How would she make a living? The feeble savings she had earned by selling water or seeds at the market had dwindled dangerously already and her block stood out like sore thumb. It looked painfully obvious that a newcomer had settled here and Mila now worried that someone would recognize her or worse, set the Sphere after her…

She just didn't feel like she could trust anyone so she simply avoided people. Stayed on her own property – which wasn't even 'her' property in the first place.

One top of all that, multitasking had finally caught up to her and she now had a constant pounding headache.

_You can do this, _said a feeble sounding voice of reason, _It's not impossible. You can do this…_

"I can't." She said aloud, dropping the rake. The tool fell into the dirt with a muffled thud and Mila wiped her forehead on her sleeve, pushing the greasy hair out of her face. She squinted up at the harsh sun and just stood there, gritting her teeth until her jaw hurt.

She stared down at the measly garden. She looked at the wild reeds taking over at the fields again and her hands glowed. She just wanted to set the place aflame. Just one little spark of seijin energy would do the trick; on tiny flame of blue…

The glow faded abruptly and Mila unfurled her fists; she needed to take a break. Go rest inside for a bit.

She left the field and stepped inside the house, the wooden patio door creaking on its hinges as it swung shut behind her. The inside of the house was clean now. She'd tidied up the entire place. It was spotlessly clean – old and rusty – but neat. She'd also gotten rid of any moldy furniture and had dismantled the wooden pieces and created a tidy stack of firewood in the back yard. They had a fireplace in here anyway; it might come in handy if it ever got too cold. She couldn't imagine what a cold Babylonia would look like; it was always scorching hot during the day. The only time it was ever cold was at night. Sometimes.

Mila sighed and took Lena out of her cot (she had placed the makeshift cot in the living room so that the baby was close by and easily heard from outside) and held the drowsy baby in her arms. It's not as if Lena would ever go unsupervised anyway; Mila was a seijin after all and she could always sense where her children were and if they were in danger. It was a plus to have this ability when she had to handle several problems at once. The young mother sat on the living room sofa with an exhausted sigh and she leaned back tiredly.

Mahad was sitting on the floor next to the couch, staring at the small amalgam of toy airplanes littering the place. He looked utterly bored. He needed to be with other kids his age, Mila knew. To have fun. It seemed to Mila that she hadn't seen her son happy ever since… Well, ever since he'd last seen his father.

"You know," Mahad started, looking up at her with a tentative blue gaze, "It's really boring here."

Mila stared at him tiredly and finally let her head loll back, closing her eyes. "I know." She sighed.

To her surprise, Mahad didn't respond with a whiny retort, like so many other times they'd held this conversation. She opened one eye to peer at him and found him staring sadly into the air. She'd been so busy trying to make a living that she realized she hadn't had time to pay him much attention lately. Maybe that's why he'd been having tantrums every other day.

Her frustrations about life faded slightly. Now she just felt terrible.

Lena stared curiously at her mother, and then at Mahad. She let out a loud happy yelp and Mila cringed as her headache pounded. "Shh…" Mila breathed softly, "Mother has a headache. Don't scream…" When Lena had settled down, Mila sat more upright and leaned toward Mahad.

His black hair was rather tangled, falling over his eyes a little. His red clothes were grass-stained and muddied from playing outside and his shoelaces were tied into clumsy, lumpy knots. He still couldn't really tie his shoes properly but she smiled all the same at the effort.

The seijin rubbed her eyes with a yawn and then she just looked at her son, too tired to offer any words of reassurance. She was so, _so_ exhausted that she couldn't even gather the energy to go play outside with him now. Farming was arduous work. And the voyage back from the pirate base of Puerto Angel had been so stressful that it had really tired her out. She'd had to abandon the Hyperion and switch out her stolen patroller for another ship. The new ship didn't even compare to the Hyperion, but at least it was basic and unattractive. Perfect to blend in. And by now, the stolen patroller had probably been dismantled and spread out all across the reaches of the black market. No way the Sphere would ever find out what had happened.

Still, it had been such a risky plan to leave to Hyperion for the patroller that Mila still shuddered at the thought of all the things that could have gone wrong. 'What if's' were terrible for the mind. But at least they had made it to Babylonia... Even if life wasn't any easier than it had been before.

"Mom." Mahad said calmly, "When is Dad coming back?"

Mila froze, staring at him, shocked at the simple ease with which he had asked the question. She was tired of changing the subject and avoiding the question all the time so she responded with the most suitable answer she could think of; "Soon, I hope."

"I hope so too." He muttered angrily. "I don't get what's taking him so long…"

Mila nodded sadly. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Maybe coming to Babylonia had been a mistake… Maybe Marcus wasn't coming back. She bit her bottom lip as she fought back tears. Perhaps she should have stayed on Puerto Angel, with the pirates, where she belonged. She didn't care anymore if the Resistance was dead. She didn't care that the pirates had become a discouraged, angry lot.

At first she had stayed awake at night, just wondering why most rebels had treated her with such contempt back on Puerto Angel. Okay, they were depressed and she understood that, but what had she done wrong in the first place?

Several conclusions had come to mind; perhaps it was because she had fled Angkor that night. She hadn't exactly stayed behind to fight. But everything had happened so quickly… And it wasn't as if she would have risked leaving her children there a minute longer. If the bombs hadn't killed them then the smoke would soon have finished the job. Mila would surely have died if she'd lost her children. And then what use would she have been to the rebels? Just another suicide case, that's all.

And then there was the fact that the pirates had been disappointed to see her because they had probably expected Marcus arriving in the Hyperion. She understood their disappointment, but she also didn't think it was fair. Marcus was just one man, he wasn't any different from the rest of them; Mila had often been left in the shadows a little, just like the others. That wasn't exactly pleasant; although it was kind of an advantage now, that not _everyone_ would recognize her. It was Marcus the Sphere was after and it was Marcus the pirates wanted back.

It wasn't as if Marcus had purposely tried to cast everyone in the shadows, it was just that he had been chosen as the leader of the Resistance. It was natural for popularity to ensue after all. But that didn't necessarily mean that Mila always approved of being left in the background. This was why staying here on Babylonia, acting like a docile worker... It was getting nearly intolerable. She had been trained to fight at the Academy; then she had left the Sphere to fight alongside the pirates. Fighting, that was all she had ever known. And acting like another passive farmer was killing her. She didn't know how she would ever get used to this calm lifestyle.

Maybe this was a sign. She would need to head back to Puerto Angel. This wasn't working and Marcus wasn't showing up. Yes, living with the pirates was risky, but living here was proving to be almost impossible. This place was a constant reminder of something that wouldn't happen. Marcus wasn't coming... He was lost. He'd been captured. Or maybe he was- No, he couldn't be dead. She would have felt it. She kept telling herself that she would have known already.

Mahad settled next to his mother on the sofa and he looked up at her. "Hey, mom?"

"Yes?" She asked.

"There's a bug in your hair."

Mila grunted tiredly. She neither had the energy or the will power to lift her arm and take the insect off her head. Mahad stood up on the couch and scooped the tiny insect from Mila's hair, showing it to her. It was a shiny beetle, squirming on its back, its several little legs kicking uselessly into the air.

"Ugh, don't put that near my face…" Mila laughed.

Mahad smirked. "Can I rip its wings off?" He asked mischievously.

"No," Mila said indignantly, "Why would you do something like that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know-"

"Just thrown it back outside." Mila said softly.

He sighed. "Fiiinnneee…."

He went outside. Then she heard him gasp and he burst back inside the house seconds later, eyes wide. "There are strangers outside!"

Mila sat upright. "_What?_"

"Come take a look." He said, dashing back out the door.

* * *

Mila could see the strangers now. Three of them, marching from the distance. They were coming straight for the house.

Who were these people? What did they think they were doing, just trespassing on her property like that?

"Mahad…" She whispered, "Go back inside with Lena okay?"

"_No,_ _Mom!_ I want to stay and watch..."

She looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. He crossed his arms defiantly. After a brief stare-down, Mahad turned around with a defeated sigh.

She heard his angered footsteps as he trudged away. Mila then grabbed a shovel leaning against the side of the house and stepped to the edge of the yard, leaning against the tool with what she hoped was a menacing expression.

Within minutes, the figures had crossed the distorting heat waves rising from the earth and were now completely visible. Mila was shocked by what she saw; a woman, a man and a small boy. Typical looking Babylonians, all dressed in colourful clothing. Neighbors maybe?

Still, she didn't understand what they could possibly be doing here. The woman waved but Mila just fixed her with a fierce glare, gripping the shovel tightly. She waited until the strangers had stopped right in front of her before making a move. "What are you doing on my property?" She demanded.

The man's smile faded and it was then that Mila became painfully aware of something; she was acting like an uncivilized hillbilly.

The woman, who seemed just a little older than Mila herself, lifted her hands peacefully. "No, no… Don't worry. We're just your neighbors, see?" She pointed at one of the closest block fragments and then stretched her arm out in greeting. "Just came by to introduce ourselves."

Mila's frown faded, but the suspicious glint remained in her eyes. "… Oh." She said, placing the shovel back against the house. "I see."

She shook hands with the newcomers. They had a son about Mahad's age too, and by the looks of it, she seemed to have frightened the small boy with her rude demeanor. He was hiding behind his mother's legs, glancing at Mila.

Mila laughed nervously. "I'm sorry… I- I wasn't expecting-"

"Oh no, _we're_ sorry." Said the man, "Should have introduced ourselves sooner…"

"You probably thought we were the Sphere!" The woman laughed. In fact, she laughed so loudly that Mila flinched. The seijin didn't know what was funny about the Sphere but she gave a weak laugh all the same. "I'm Renata. And this is my husband…"

"Hunter, nice to meet you." He said. "And this is our son, Shoomdai."

The little boy waved shyly.

"Mila." She said in return, tipping her head slightly.

"And my name's Mahad!" Cried a voice from behind. Everyone turned around and noticed the boy peering from around the side of the house, an insolent grin plastered on his face.

Mila closed her eyes momentarily before motioning to Mahad. The boy trudged forward to stand beside his mother.

Shoomdai frowned, leaning toward Mahad slightly. "Your mom's not very nice." He whispered, loud enough for the parents to hear. Mila was met with worried glances from the parents, but she just shook her head with a smile.

"Watch your mouth or I'll punch your face in." Mahad retorted.

The two boys glared at each other before bursting out with laughter. "Wanna go play catch?" Mahad asked.

"Sure!"

It wasn't long before the two boys took off and Mila was standing alone with these strange, good-natured people again.

"I haven't seen anyone on this piece of land since… Well, ever since we moved here, right hon'?" Asked Renata, turning to her husband with a sweep of dark brown hair.

He shook his head. "Nope. Always been deserted."

They both stared expectantly at Mila, who stumbled on her words; "Oh… well. Yes, I'm new here. Just arrived a few weeks ago with my two kids…"

The couple stared back with a curious glaze in their eyes. Their cheerful stature was very unsettling.

"It was my… my grandfather's property." Mila lied, "I decided to move here. You know, enjoy the country life-" A deerfly settled on Mila's arm and she slapped viciously at the insect. The fly took off drunkenly, and Mila put on a forced smile.

"That's... nice." Renata said slowly.

They didn't move and Mila just stared back uncomfortably, aware of Mahad and Shoomdai's loud laughs as they played catch.

"Oh!" Hunter turned to Renata, "Did you bring…"

"Oh yes, I almost forgot." Renata lifted her arm, holding out a small cardboard box tied shut with a string of tweed, intricately curled into a nice bow on top. Mila hadn't noticed the package until now.

"... For us?" Mila asked incredulously. She opened the box slowly, still a little suspicious.

"I baked them last night, it's no hassle really." Renata muttered, looking a little worried now.

The box opened and a delicious smell invaded the air, and a variety of plump oatmeal cookies was revealed. Mila looked up, mouth hanging open. "I don't know what to say… Thank you, it's very kind…"

It was almost a little _too_ kind… What were these people expecting in return? It was all very odd…

"Just trying to be neighborly that's all." Hunter said abruptly, as if reading her thoughts. "We saw you working outside from our place see, and we just thought we'd come by and say hello."

"Thank you." Mila murmured again. Just then, she heard Lena start crying. "Why don't you come inside?" She smiled, wiping her dusty free hand on her overalls.

* * *

The evening that ensued was the most relaxing, pleasant evening she had ever had on Babylonia. They spent hours sitting around the table, eating and chatting. Mila had never met such… well… such _nice_ people. And they were nice just for the sake of being nice! It was incredible. Mila had always lived in a world where most people were only kind to you when they expected something in return. But these people, they just enjoyed the fact that they were making a new friend, it seemed.

Mahad and Shoomdai spent hours playing outside, and Mila was just relieved to hear her son laugh again. Lena sat in her mother's arms most of the evening, basking in the glow of attention.

"She's so beautiful!" Renata had exclaimed, more than once. Lena was beaming. And Mila felt that, even though every muscle in her body hurt, even though her hands were cut and blistered, things were just a little better.

The couple proved to be very insightful too, detailing Babylonia and its many activities. There was even a school nearby. Mila hadn't even thought about school. She'd been too stressed out.

They also admitted that they thought it looked like she needed help. Mila denied this but she could tell by their expressions that they didn't buy it. They offered countless tips and instructions on farming, and Mila memorized them raptly. In the end, she decided it didn't matter if she looked a little clueless. Because honestly, she needed the help.

It was pitch dark by the time they left. That night, as she watched them leave, there was no place left for doubt to settle in her mind. She smiled as she carried a sleeping Mahad back inside.

Somehow, things seemed just a little brighter now. Somehow, life wasn't _completely_ impossible anymore.

* * *

_A/N I decided Mila needed a little help. How could she be successful at farming if she lived most her life with the Sphere anyway? I_ _wasn't sure what to name Shoomdai's parents ('cause he has such a weird name) so I had to settle for pretty normal names in the end. There was nothing that could rival something like Shoomdai... Gotta love the weird names on this show. ;)_

_I decided to bring in other Babylonians because it does seem like a populated area in the show. Unfortunately, they never showed any other adults on Babylonia so I had to make up two people (But at least they're Shoomdai's parents)... Okay, now tell me what you think!_

_Leave a review - Laissez un commentaire!_


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N** Okay, the last chapter! A big thank you to everyone who reviewed! I appreciated every single comment. Well, this story has come to an end already, and hopefully it has fulfilled its goal in filling up the fragmented Skyland timeline. Also, I want to mention that I didn't write this story intending to make it particularly happy or action-packed. I wanted to write a realistic story; and that also encompasses sadder, quieter chapters I'm afraid._

_Leave a comment before you leave! I always appreciate feedback! Goodbye Skyland ... For now. ;)_

* * *

The stars were beautiful at night. The Milky Way looked like a streak of dense, glittering foam. And Mila sat beneath it all, lounging in an old lawn chair in front of the house, just enjoying the slight coolness of night. The swishing grass, undulating in a sea of darkness. The trees rustling in the breeze.

She had to admit, living in the country had its benefits. She had been staying here for so long now that she had grown used to waking to the sound of singing birds in early morning, and being lulled to sleep by the soothing sound of crickets.

But she didn't feel like being lulled to sleep now. As exhausted as she was from working all day in the hot sun, Mila still wanted to spend some time alone. To think. The children were asleep but she found comfort in forcing herself awake despite her sore muscles, instead enjoying the silence that was the black, shimmering void.

It had been three months already. The first month on Babylonia had been brutal, but the second and third had been bearable; now that she had actually acquired valuable farming skills, life was getting gradually easier. She still had a lot to learn, but she was getting better at it and that's all that mattered.

Living on Babylonia wasn't an impossible feat after all. It wasn't perfect, that was for sure; they were always a little hungry and thirsty... Mila supposed she had been accustomed to the Rebellion's plentiful accumulation of water in the past years. Being spoiled meant that it was much harder to switch back to a more arduous lifestyle... But thirst wasn't a new problem. They would have to handle it. After all, everyone on Babylonia seemed to be coping. She just feared how much water the Sphere would take once it decided to come here on a regular basis again to collect taxes. Mila hadn't met any sign of the Sphere yet, so she assumed the organization was still trying to pull itself together after its near death battle with the Resistance.

Other than that, life here was very much bearable.

Mila shifted her gaze towards another patch of starry heaven, taking in every single glimmering pinpoint of light. Still her mind wandered. The Resistance could have won, she thought dully. Luck had simply fallen on the Sphere's side at the very last second.

Life would be so different if the Resistance had defeated the Sphere... The pirates would have instituted a democracy; at least, that had been Marcus's first plan anyway. And then, they would have created some sort of water distribution system that also would have relied on people cooperating with the new authority. It would have been difficult to create a new government of course, but somehow, Mila felt that they would have been able to pull it off.

Right now, in another life, she would be sitting outside somewhere with Marcus, contemplating a bright, new era for Skyland. He would probably have leaned in, kissed her.

Mila shook her head angrily, gazing at another area of starry sky. Marcus wasn't here.

A terrible shudder of dread passed over her, but it ended in a second or two, leaving bland emptiness behind. She didn't like thinking about him too much. She would imagine all the things that could have happened to him. She would imagine, in gruesome detail, how he would have died… If he had died anyway. She didn't know. She just didn't know…

And just like that, Mila tasted the saltiness of tears. She hadn't even realized that she was crying and now she couldn't stop the flow distorting her vision, clinging in droplets along her eyelashes and rolling down her face.

She was blubbering like a child. And she hated it.

Distantly, she realized that this was the first time she had cried like this in a long time. First off, she wasn't really a crier. Secondly, she just hadn't allowed herself any time to dwell on Marcus's disappearance ever since coming back to Babylonia. Sure, she had shed a few tears here and there, but those glimpses of sadness had been quick and easily pushed aside. Now that life wasn't a tornado of stress, grief had slowly been building up, pushing behind her eyes.

It had gotten more and more difficult with each passing day to keep it under control. And now, it had finally come out.

Mila hadn't seen or heard from Marcus in three months... _Three months!_ And now she feared that she would never again set eyes on him. The worst part was that she had no idea how he had died (if that was the case) and it tore her apart to think that his body had probably drifted away. Rotted alone.

She'd never be able to give him a proper memorial service. Mila clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries.

_Stop it_, She told herself through the cloud of despair. _Stop it right now. That's enough. Crying won't amount to anything, so stop pitying yourself._

Slowly, very slowly, she managed to stifle the fog of grief. Within minutes she had stopped crying and now she just sat, hunched over. There remained only a tightly coiled knot of ice in her chest; the remnants of grief. Lurking. Waiting.

She wasn't going to give it an opportunity to rise again though; crying tired the mind and the body. Her children needed her to be there. To be happy and sane. That was all that mattered. That was her only goal from now on. In the meantime, she would try to stay positive. Marcus could still be out there. Perhaps he would be here tomorrow, and this vortex of grief and worrying would all have been for nothing.

Her heartbeat slowed and she exhaled gratefully. She felt like a slight warmth had coated the knot of anxiety inside her ribcage. And now, she truly felt exhausted.

She shifted in the chair, ready to get up and head for the door when a soft sound reached her ears. The patter of feet on the floorboards.

Mila froze, glancing over her shoulder.

Sure enough, the door was flung open unceremoniously to reveal a small boy, draped in a long, fluffy blanket. The boy's eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he fixed his mother with a stare. "Mom?" He asked drowsily.

Mila hastily wiped the remaining wetness away from her eyes. "Mahad! Honey, what are you doing up so late?" She said nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice.

He trudged forward, hugging his blanket around him, carelessly letting the fabric brush in the dirt. At any other time, Mila would have told him to leave the blanket inside but she somehow didn't have the will power to scold him for such a silly thing. It didn't matter.

"I couldn't sleep." He said, pulling the fabric around his head. "Why are you outside?"

"Oh… Mommy likes to watch the stars."

Mahad looked up briefly, nodding. He smirked suddenly. "Look." He said, flinging the blanket around like a cape and darting across the yard, letting the dirtied drape billow and flap. "I'm a superhero!"

Mila laughed slightly, her throat still sore from crying. "Shh! Mahad, come here. You're going to wake up your sister."

He circled the yard once more before stopping to her side, breathless. Smiling.

"Come here you." She smirked, picking him up and sitting him against her on the chair. "Why are you so noisy, hmm?" She asked good-naturedly, tickling him. He laughed loudly, twisting to get away.

"Stop it!" He laughed, twirling around and flinging the blanket into Mila's face.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, her face hidden by the lump of fabric. Mahad sniggered. The young mother leaned sideways limply, feigning unconsciousness, eyes screwed shut, mouth open.

Mahad tore the blanket off her face and eyed her skeptically. "You're not dead! Mom, you're such a faker…" He poked her forehead, pinched her nose. Mila smiled slightly. "Ha! I saw you smile, you're not dead…"

She opened her eyes and sat upright. Mahad leaned against her and then they just sat there, crammed into the patio chair, sharing a fluffy drape, watching the sky.

Mila kissed Mahad's head briefly. It seemed odd how despaired she had been minutes earlier. The mere presence of another loved one really lightened the situation.

"Do you think he's out there?" Mahad asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Mila combed her fingers through his hair. "Hmm?"

"Dad."

Mila paused for a second before nodding. "Yes. Yes, I'm sure he's out there."

"You know… I think he's probably fighting against the bad guys…" He yawned.

"The bad guys." Mila chuckled.

"Yeah. Those mean people who burned all the- (He yawned again) all the houses." He stopped, staring into the air. "He's kicking their butts."

Mila laughed. "I'm sure he is."

"Dad is the strongest, right mom?" Mahad asked proudly. The way he said it… It wasn't even a question; it was a statement.

Mila said nothing, but she kept combing his hair with her fingers, knowing he was just about to fall asleep.

"Yeah… He's the strongest…"

"Sure." She said softly.

He snored in response. Mila's eyebrows lifted. How on earth could he fall asleep so quickly? She stopped stroking his hair, and just looked at him, sleeping peacefully. She wished she could sleep without a worry too.

It was odd really, to think that she was taught to look down upon non-seijins at the Academy. How _terrible_... She was so grateful that she didn't think that way anymore. It was cruel and unacceptable.

Marcus wasn't a seijin, neither was Mahad. Lena probably wouldn't have powers either, but it was still too early to tell. And as she sat there with her son, Mila couldn't imagine having chosen a different path in life. She loved her family more than anything in the world. She was just grateful that no matter what had happened, Mahad and Lena were safe. They would live a blissfully ignorant life perhaps, but they were healthy. She should feel lucky.

Mila leaned back drowsily, eyelids fluttering, threatening to close. The wind was picking up, rolling against the overgrown fields, and spreading the cool, flowery smell of wet pollen. The stars twinkled silently, passive, calm, watchful….

Mila would always wish, perhaps, that Marcus was there with them; she would always hope for his return. Hope kept her going. She didn't want to dwell on negativity; the thought of accepting Marcus's death was not possible at the moment. She was instead going to embrace the possibilities of his life. He was out there.

He was out there…

Each morning she would wake up with these words bouncing around in her head and each night she would recite them. Again and again… It kept her sane somehow, to stay blinded by hope. And the days would file by with speedy intensity; merge into weeks, months… A year.

A year without him and yet, she still kept the flicker of hope alive. Her busy, difficult lifestyle helped greatly to keep her thoughts focused on the present. It was when she was alone in the quiet house that grief would randomly decide to strike. It was simple really; keeping busy meant all the difference in the world.

Time would literally fly past, blur into nothingness. Mahad would grow up. Lena wasn't a tiny infant anymore.

One bright morning, they were sitting at the kitchen table when Lena's bowl of oatmeal suddenly ignited with blue light, floated into the air and tipped its contents all over Mahad's head. The boy just stared in shock. Then Mila cried out with a mixture of pride, joy and dread, picking up the one year old and hugging her tightly.

_Little Lena… A seijin!_ And then, later, reality had set in, stifling the burst of happiness. _Lena, a seijin. Oh no._

Even though it was difficult to explain it to the boy, Mila made Mahad promise not to tell anyone about his sister's powers. He agreed in the end, though he still didn't understand the need for such secrecy.

Mahad went to school and Mila stayed at home, taking care of Lena and tending to the crops. Often, she would think about the rebels… Wonder if the Resistance had dissolved completely by now, or if it was growing again. She hadn't heard from them in ages… She supposed everyone was in the same situation at the moment; blending into the scenery, watching from the sidelines as the Sphere grew from the ashes.

The Sphere would come by, at random intervals, to collect water. And even though it killed her on the inside, Mila would follow their orders without delay. One little twitch of anger could mean the death of her family. It wasn't worth the risk. That was why she kept her powers a secret, even from her own children. She certainly didn't want to be recognized and shot down in front of her own house.

The seijin would often consider flying back to Puerto Angel, but something stopped her every time. The mutinous rebels. The risks of living on a rebel hideout again… The constant reminder of Marcus's disappearance.

No, another couple of months on Babylonia wouldn't hurt. She would wait a little longer for Marcus. A year. Two years. Five years.

She was getting older now. Her kids were older too; they gradually became less of a hassle and more helpful around the house. Her children, who didn't even know their own past.

But Babylonia would create new memories; the blissful, rainy seasons, with successful crops and a nice profit. The dry, difficult years of constant hunger and thirst.

A cycle of happiness, coming and going...

Mahad falling out of a large tree and Lena running home to get her mother, who would later tend to the boy's minor wounds with a careful eye glinting with disapproval. She had specifically told him not to climb that damn tree! It was rotting apart; no wonder the branch had given way beneath his feet...

Lena coming back from school without her brother in the afternoon, for he was stuck in detention. Again...

Her children having bursts of defiance here and there; Lena using her powers outside the house. In plain sight. Mila would then remind her not to do so. She could see by the hurt glint in her daughter's eyes that it was unfair, but what choice did she have? She had to be strict about it... Mila didn't want to see her daughter dragged away to the Academy.

Mahad, in general, just wouldn't listen to her. Mila found it increasingly difficult to get him to follow instructions with the passing years. It was frustrating sometimes. She wasn't a bad parent, so why was he so rebellious all the time? He'd probably gotten that from his father's side of the family, she had decided angrily...

In the end, life was hard, but it wasn't all that unpleasant; they were still a loving family, with very normal problems, living a very normal life.

Babylonia was their home now. Somehow, the idea of Marcus coming back drifted to the back of Mila's mind with the years, and now she only focused on the present.

Making sure she wasn't behind on her water payments, tending to the fields and raising the children.

One minute at a time.

And soon, the day would come when Mahad would stop asking for his father.

~END~

* * *

_Leave a review! - Laissez un commentaire!_


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